
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13493541.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage, Major_Character_Death
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Jeon_Jungkook/Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope
  Character:
      Jeon_Jungkook, Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope, Park_Jimin_(BTS), Kim_Taehyung_|_V,
      Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin, Kim_Namjoon_|_RM
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Smoking, Prostitution, call_boy_Hoseok, Rich_Jeon_Jungkook,
      Drinking, Minor_Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster/Park_Jimin, changed_my_name
      from_daddyseok_btw, Eventual_Smut, Bottom_Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope, Past_Jung
      Hoseok_|_J-Hope/Min_Yoongi_|_Suga
  Series:
      Part 1 of smoke_and_whiskey
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-01-27 Updated: 2018-03-08 Chapters: 13/? Words: 8871
****** in tongues ******
by jean_(younguns)
Summary
     everyone deserves happiness; even call boys and rich kids. (nonlinear
     series of drabbles ft. callboy seok and ceo/heavy smoker jungkook)
Notes
     yaaaaaaaaaaa junghope/hopekook is literally otp. aside from all my
     other otps.
     gah i feel like i could write little chapters about them for days???
     i love these types of 'dyfunctional' but still very in love aus.
     please give ma boys lots of love and comments :)
     *title taken from joji's ep
     p.s i apologize for any mistakes lol.
     p.p.s i love u so much grace and happy birthday. I can't believe
     you're already a year older :""" you're such a sweet cinnabon bun and
     you honestly deserve the world. You're so talented I can't even
     believe you're a real person. I talk about usless shit but you think
     it's chill but really aajbhfasdbv s i love you sooooooooo much and I
     hope you have the best birthday ever. really.
***** afternoon pine and smoke *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
                                        
 
 
 
     he falls and I fall even deeper 
     but he catches himself  
     and I don't 
 
after noon  pine and  cigarette smoke 
 
Everyone says don't smoke. Young children, adults, elderly,
adolescents. It's given, that wherever you are, smoking is not good
for your health. Uttering these apparently 'life-changing' words to a long-
time smoker would be futile; saying this is like saying that you shouldn't
sting someone to a bee; one way or another, it will happen, and all the efforts
and words would go to waste. 
Mother says don't smoke.  
He still does it anyway.  
(Well she doesn't know that). 
Jeon Jungkook still smokes unfiltered Camels and Marlboro Reds; still feels the
heavy taste of ash on his tongue he used to feel when he was sixteen and
stupid. He continues to smoke the same packs that he bought 'under Junghyun',
remembering the packaging he'd acquainted himself with for the past
six years.  
He still lights each cigarette like it's his last, taking slow drags he knows
that will most definitely choke him to death. Jungkook even takes it upon
himself to buy multiple, being the wonderful chain smoker that he is. And he
knows going a few days without sweet Red and Unfiltered will have terrible
consequences, so he prevents such by smoking a few a day.   
Anyone with working eyes and half a brain could see this; from the bits of
burnt paper and stubs of black all over his city-side apartment to the smell of
pinewood and heavy, intoxicating smoke that surrounds itself in his entire
home. Maybe, running a company is killing him. But he doesn't say a word, and
instead shuts himself in the comfort of a concrete balcony and shut, black-out
blinds.  
(Jungkook's relief comes in the form of toxic smoke and ashtrays). 
 
Hoseok's bare body snuggles up to him as he shifts in his bed, satin sheets
rumpling under their bare bodies. Jungkook just sits and stares at the blank
ceiling, a faraway look in his eyes. Despite this he makes a move press
his fingertips along the boy's figure, sleeping body making no move under his
gentle touch. Jungkook presses himself into the warmth of another human
being. This, wonderful warmth he feels for only a select few hours, leaving as
soon as it came, reminding him of a subtle gust of wind on a warm day. A golden
feeling that feels as if he was finally breathing without the use of tar and
ash.  
He relishes in the taste of the beautiful boy beside him as he does cigarettes,
making no move to leave his bed or clean up the mess from last night.  
Idle in thought, Jungkook decides to trace random patterns along his back,
following the curve and bump of his spine before ghosting over the plethora of
bruises and marks he left along the honeyed skin. He knows the older boy's body
like a map, reciting every collarbone and sharp dip of bone and skin in perfect
memory, all the while thinking about things of unimportance, like how he was
going to report to work when all he wanted to do was to spend time with a
whore; a sex worker. Perhaps the number of days they've spent together was
simply immeasurable, and he was finally going crazy over a man who sells
himself. A person who fucks people for money. Not that he cares too much about
that fact, but he'd rather not paint, much less care, over someone's tainted
canvas. 
(And he doesn't. But he'd like to think he wasn't fucking a prostitute
exclusively. The caring part, though, is still a questionable fact). 
The boy begins to shift again, and his job is going to start very soon, but he
stills and begins to stroke the elder's hair instead. Recently, it had been
dyed fiery red, Jungkook raising his eyes initially at the striking colour, but
soon falling in love with it. After all, most colours suit Hoseok, the ever-
iridescent man who shifts spectrums every time he sees him.  
He threads his fingers carefully through the older boy's silky strands and lets
him grapple his chest, plopping his head, a top. Hoseok shuffles a little
before settling in the junction between his arm and torso, snoring lightly as
he does so.  
(Jungkook's relief also comes in the form of a breathtaking call-boy
named Jung Hoseok). 
 
A week later Jungkook wakes up to the sight of a bare Hoseok dancing in front
of his bed, a Japanese song blaring through his tiny iPhone as he gets dressed.
His slim boxers hug his thighs as he wiggles his butt in front of a confused
and amused Jungkook, presumably unaware of the other's watching eyes. Maybe
it's a little too domestic for his lifestyle, but he thinks hilarious and
pretty, so he makes no effort to stop it. He watches the boy turn and twist in
numerous directions, attention more on moving his body to the rhythm than to
put on clothes.  
(Endearing is the word that has been sitting heavy on Jungkook's tongue, unable
to come out and form proper sentences). 
Hoseok does, however, stop his cute dancing when he catches Jungkook from the
corner of his eye while buttoning his oversized dress-shirt. From the number of
times they've seen each other naked, one would assume that they would be
comfortable. Hoseok apparently, is not and turns a furious red
in embarrassment. He quickly apologizes and shuffles for his phone while
holding his half-done shirt close, fumbling through the satin for it. Jungkook
smiles on his side at the sight of it all, finding the frantic older boy too
cute for his own good. In bed, he is another story. 
He starts off his conquest of tiredness by pulling Hoseok into the bed by his
sleeve cuffs. The thin boy falls into the mattress and into Jungkook's bare
chest, his nose instantly being filled with the familiar scent
of pine and smoke; the smell he'd grown accustomed to, and now associates
with home and comfort. He's seen more of Jungkook than he has of his own family
home, which says many things, one definitely not being their fondness for each
other. Like that would exist in their 'business' relationship of fucking each
other for money and loneliness. Or boredom.  
The younger keeps him tight as if he'd fly away like a dandelion, despite the
other boy's weak protest. Jungkook buries his nose into the crook of his neck,
nuzzling one of the bruises that was marked on his precious spots. 
"We still have time." He mumbles, the older going stiff for a moment before
loosening.  
He melts into his arms even if he shouldn't. 
Chapter End Notes
     the song hoseok was dancing to was 4:00 AM by taeko ohnuki. check it
     lol
     ( i love 80's japanese music)
***** white sheets *****
Chapter by jean_(younguns), younguns
Chapter Notes
     gah i already have a bunch of chapters written but i wont post them
     yet cause im satan.
     (is it bad im already building a universe in my head?)
     kind of a continuation of the last chapter, but in a different time.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
i'll make a deal with the devil 
just to see satan himself 
 
white  sheets 
"You should stop smoking," Hoseok tells him one day as he wakes from the king-
size bed with an empty space in the shape of Jungkook and the smell of Camels
in the air. He rubs his eyes tiredly as he looks around the empty bedroom for a
shirt he could wear, preferably Jungkook's. His voice is still thick with
sleep, accent catching on a little as he continues with "Good Morning"
and other automatic sentences Jungkook doesn’t entirely catch.  
Jungkook grunts and shifts his weight against the railing of the balcony,
watching cars run through congested highways and roads.  
He hears Hoseok yawn and he could almost see the older boy's body flexing under
his white t-shirt, hand reaching up while the other covers his mouth.  
 
Hoseok says don't smoke.  
Jungkook almost quits. 
Chapter End Notes
     i love comments and kudos. yes grace, im an attention hoe.
     please feed me with em :)
***** sway *****
Chapter by jean_(younguns), younguns
things you deserve  
a good life 
good sleep 
a good man 
-r.h sin 
 
sway  
Jungkook sits outside an expensive club, leather pants tightening as he heaves
himself on the curb along with many other drunkards.  
His cigarette lays unlit in his mouth as he sits, the light in his hand
being tossed around weightlessly. His mind is drifting again, a
common reoccurrence in recent days. Lately, Taehyung has been a handful, and
while Jimin is a competent secretary, he can't have him all hot and
bothered every time he sees his business partner, Namjoon.  
He lets out a deep sigh and mumbles against the stick in his mouth. 
A boy; a pretty one, comes and sits beside him abruptly, all long eyelashes and
shimmery makeup. His brown hair is quite striking against the harsh, purple
glow of the night club.  
The boy takes out a lighter with thin fingers and painted nails, offering to
light his cigarette. Jungkook refuses quickly with a shake of the head.  
"We all make poor life choices, chain smoker." The pretty boy starts as he
watches Jungkook play with the cigarette. His fingers expertly twist the stick,
not dropping it as it passes through his hand. He's been doing things with his
precious sticks and his fingers for as long as he could remember.
The boy beside him looks at the sky with a woeful look in his
eyes, visible despite the gold glitter he wears around his eyes, and the gray
contacts he wears. It should be enticing, but all he sees are broken dreams
stuck on a loop.
Jungkook eyes him quizzically and watches as he pockets the gold zippo in his
thick, fur coat. He decides to light the cigarette after all, taking his own
dollar store lighter and setting the bud aflame. This time, he offers to share
a few drags with the boy, who blatantly ignores the offer. 
(Clearly, the prostitute is new at this.) 
"Back at ya', prostitute." He retorts, voice coming out a little strangled from
all the alcohol and ash in his system. His Camel rests heavy in between his
fingers, mouth blowing out the smoke slowly. He wants to savour the taste of it
all.  
The other boy hums thoughtfully before kicking out his legs showing his thigh
boots onto the streets, blue suede pretty underneath the street lights. 
Jungkooks puffs out. 
His delicate hand cups Jungkook's chin and tugs his head towards him, a
suddenly melancholic, but trying smile plastered on his glossy lips. From here
the younger can see his lip mole, popping out under the glitter of whatever he
put on his mouth.  
Jungkook watches his movements with hawk eyes. 
(he knows that smile all too well. Because he had it too). 
"How bout' you forget them for tonight?" The boy says with a whisper,  his tone
is sweet and seductive. But his actions betray his façade.
The desperation is clear in his face, but Jungkook can tell that his mind and
soul are screeching: don't let it come to this.
 
 
 
Jungkook absent-mindedly nods his head and snuffs out the cigarette.
***** persona *****
Chapter by jean_(younguns), younguns
Chapter Notes
     hopekook is too strong. i love it too much.
     btw offonoff and dean are literally the best. listen to bath,
     cigarette (ironically) from offonoff please. and instagram from dean.
     but really, all of their songs are bops lmao.
i'd fall in love 
but i'd never want to get back up 
from the highs and the lows 
and the delicious bruises and scrapes 
 
person a  
Jungkook watches him put his choker back on, the shiny, fake diamond flashing
against the morning light. Up next are his faded blue jeans, followed by his
pink suede biker jacket. So many articles of clothing go against his skin like
layers of paint, concealing the true masterpiece underneath them. His secret
marks go unseen; hush, hush Hoseok once told him, the bruises a treasure for
his eyes only. There's a stop sign in the boy's eyes, only ignored by the
younger when he comes over again.  
And next week, or tomorrow, Jungkook will see the same lovely bites marks,
albeit more faded. Washed and worn, reminding him of his favourite band tee
from high school.  
He will get sentimental, and he will still love it fiercely, maybe even
more. Maybe.  
The younger sits up against the soft pillow, leaning his head at the top of the
cushioned headboard. He looks down to where Hoseok is still tidying up. Now
he's applying the same, artificial lip gloss he wore when he first found him.  
(It tastes of pineapples and the sweetest honey). 
"You're a lot cuter than I expected you to be." Jungkook rasps, his eyes
following every careful brush stroke against his perfect skin.  
Hoseok looks behind from the mirror, watching Jungkook's eyes follow his hands.
He finishes up the small line of eyeliner before turning to his foundation. The
older boy knows he'll need a lot today because of his client's sudden spur
of possessive behaviour. He didn't have anyone else to hide the marks
for; in fact, Jungkook calls him so much that the other people that want a
taste of him can't. Not that Hoseok minds. He doesn't. He doesn't because
Jungkook always treats him so well. So well, he sometimes forgets that he is
what he is.  
(But he musn't forget that he is a prostitute and Jungkook is just a needy
client).  
"What makes you say that?" He asks, taking a makeup sponge and blending it into
his skin. 
Jungkook shrugs his shoulders and blindly reaches for the pack of cigarettes he
always leaves beside him on his nightstand. He then fumbles for a stick,
fingers itching to put it in his mouth. The younger looks back at Hoseok, who
is now finishing up his face in front of his mirror.  
"You seemed so, I don't know, provactive, when I, uh, fucked you the second
time. Not when we first did it. You were all shy and not prostitute-like.
Anyways, the other times were all real-life porno moans and growls. Thouht you
were all about sharp edges and cutting shit. Whatever. Guess not." 
"What? So I'm not strong or sexy?" 
The younger shakes his head, teeth clamping down on the cigarette as he reaches
out to the drawers of his stand on his side. This time, he looks for his white
lighter.  
"No, no. Fuck. You are. Just—I thought you're all strong words and
sexiness; smokey or however the fuck you describe it. You're hot as hell
though. Just—in a different way." Jungkook searches all three compartments and
finds nothing but an empty box of condoms, used lube, and phonebooks he'd never
touched in his entire life. He sighs in defeat and goes back to resting against
the mound of pillows he created. "You're cute. Beautiful." 
(Breathtaking. He doesn't say that). 
Hoseok quirks his eyebrow at him and shows off his finished makeup, wordlessly
communicating: look at me, the beautiful whore you've been fucking. "Yeah?" He
challenges, leaning against the hardwood of his drawer. Behind him is a mess of
products, littered and haphazardly placed on the surface.  
Jungkook gets the message and smiles against the Malboro in his mouth, licking
his lips to respond: yes, I see you, and you're real fucking hot. A dry
chuckle leaves his mouth before he finishes their conversation. 
"Well, I wouldn't have fucked you for the past year and a half if I didn't
think so." 
***** purgatorio *****
Chapter by jean_(younguns), younguns
Chapter Summary
     n/a
Chapter Notes
     okay...... so this really has no specific timeline right now, but if
     you look at the chapter summaries, you'll see the date in terms of
     mm/dd/yyyy. yeah.
     just a little note uwu
     ps i might start and update schedule of every 2 days since the
     chapters are relatively short.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
you are a devil 
that brings me to oblivion 
a sweet escape 
filled with all of our sins 
 
p urgatorio 
Paradise. A euphoria, in which everything is perfectly sculpted, and there is
no evil or wrongdoing. A place where all of one's dreams are realized, and
there is absolute happiness in every corner. 
Hoseok, as a young child was taught by his aunties and uncles that happiness is
achieved through hard work. He was also taught that happiness never comes in
the form of wrongdoings; it never materializes from bad choices and
questionably heinous acts. But one exception came in the form of his mother.
Sweet, young, Jung Somin.  
He'd watched his mom drink herself into oblivion, to reach paradise. This
apparently wonderful reality, which to his mother, required self-destruction to
achieve. For fourteen, long years of his life, the young boy had seen whiskey
bottles disappear from the 'emergency cabinet'. Had seen shattered glass
and blood stains on the carpet of his parent's room. He noticed even the times
when his mom vomited up what seemed to be her entire stomach, only to reach for
the alcohol she'd consumed hours earlier. He knows all this because he is the
one who nursed her through it. 
This brought happiness to his mother. She'd told him and Jiwoo many times that
turning to bottles and too high alcohol percentages, had made her so happy. So,
he let it be. Young, naïve, Hoseok, turned a blind eye to the devil's
influence, and instead looked at the angels that sang above his mother head;
the ones she always wanted to reach. The very angels that told of the perfect
place, where his dad and his other relatives he did not know, supposedly
resided. They are the same winged figures his mom used to cry and sing about
when he was nothing but a toddler. 
And when she was laying in the brisk white casket, brown hair and baby's breath
fanned around her ethereal face, Hoseok, for a split second, saw that she had
finally reached paradise. Among the weeping aunts and uncles, and the blank,
teary face of his older sister.  
It had taken her approximately fourteen years and hundreds of liquor bottles to
reach the angels. To reach, what he hoped, was all she longed for, the entire
time that she was raising children.
 
 
 
 
 
(If this is what paradise was, Hoseok did not want it). 
 
Chapter End Notes
     comments and kudos are much appreciated if you enjoyed ;)
      
     my auntie gave me some butterscotch from the philippines and it is
     damn delicious. bless her. i just had to say that lol.
***** the painter *****
Chapter Notes
     this is a relatively light chapter lol.
     should i turn this into a hopekook drabble collection? i don't know.
     i kinda like this standalone au. i think i'll also add a masterlist
     of all the chapters in order.
     anyways, it is balls cold in toronto right now and your girl is
     inwardly crying.
     also thank you for half a thousand hits in this short amount of time!
     I'm uber super happy. enough to give up grammar. even more so for
     kudos. seriously. thank you so much.
     not beta'd.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
paint my body 
with your love 
 
the  painter 
 
Jungkook stares down at the glistening body underneath him, watching the rise
and fall of the boy's chest. His golden skin is shining under the dim light of
his bedroom, thin sheet of sweat ethereal on him. Hoseok is spread like a meal
before him; lustful gaze following is every movement. His hair is plastered on
to his forehead, arms thrown above his head on the mound of pillows he lays on.
Jungkook moves back to admire the beautiful sight, thick legs around him
opening even more in hopes of quickening the process.  
The sight in front of him was enough to make anyone drool in lust.  
Possessiveness bubbles up in his chest as he continues to watch. Perhaps he was
the painter and beautiful Jung Hoseok in all glowing, flawlessness his blank
canvas. Today, he would use small, slow strokes to paint a masterpiece; a
detailed web of purples and blues, creating everything and nothing at the same
time. Then he would look back at his canvas and admire it until it is time
again.  
"Jungkook," The older says, voice filled with need and desire, "Hurry up."  
For emphasis, the boy moves his hips and attempts to entice him.  
He shakes his head and smiles, tongue moving out to lick his lips. "You'll get
my cock soon, don't worry." 
Hoseok rolls his eyes, slapping the other male's well-built chest. "I hope so-
" 
(it's time to pick up his brush.) 
The younger once more, hovers above him and engulfs his lustful expression
fully, practically shoving his tongue down his throat. While he tastes the
older boy, he decides to prep him.  
His long fingers look for the lubricant he left on his right, hand fumbling
through satin sheets for the bottle. Noticing the younger's
struggle, Hoseok quickly finds it, sliding it under his hands before pulling
Jungkook into an even deeper kiss. 
Jungkook huffs back and opens the bottle with deft fingers, pouring an obscene
amount in his hand. He rubs it between his fingertips to warm it before slowly
entering the older boy's tight hole, relishing in the way he immediately
accepts him. The younger groans in the feeling of Hoseok's warmth; no matter
how many times he does this, he still finds a distinct, exciting feeling in
prepping him. Slowly, he begins to move against his walls, taking his sweet
time in going in and out.   
Hoseok evens out his breathing once more, clenching around Jungkook's pumping
finger once he felt ready. The feeling of one was simply not enough.
"Another." 
The brunette cockily smiles, getting his next finger ready. He pushes in a
little faster this time, earning a gasp from the older boy. Jungkook begins
searching for his magic spot, crooning his fingers slightly and adding a slow
drag in hopes of teasing the boy further. He strokes up and down until he
hears Hoseok's loud yell. The smirk on his face only grows further,
satisfaction visible in his actions. Jungkook continues until mewls turn into
moans and two fingers turn into four. He continues until Hoseok becomes
writhing mess underneath him, unraveling just a little bit more for his eyes
only.  
"Ah—ah. If—if you're gonna fuck me, hurry up." Hoseok barely gasps,
voice drifting in and out of his throat with resistance from the sheer pleasure
he was receiving. "You don't—ha—pay me to get teased, by—ah—you." 
Jungkook retreats his fingers and wipes them on the sheets, thoroughly ruining
the burgundy that has seen too many of their activities. He laughs as he
reaches for the lube and condom, popping the cap and shaking his head. He gets
on his knees and stares at Hoseok. 
"That," he gives himself a few strokes before rolling on the condom, "is where
you are wrong, princess." 
Hoseok shakes and reddens at the nickname, ignoring the feeling of relatively
warm lubricant beginning to drip out from his expectant hole and onto the cleft
of his ass.  
The younger lubes his dick before lining it up with Hoseok, rubbing it in
between his cheeks before pressing the tip inside.  
(now; now, he picks up his paint and settles on the colours) 
Inch by inch, Jungkook begins the slow drag of his cock inside Hoseok, a long
string of curses leaving the latter's mouth. He moves his arms and places his
hands beside the redhead's face, bangs falling off his head.  
He sets up an unhurried, yet deep pace, watching the older roll his eyes to the
back of his head when he finds his sweet spot. Each melodic slap of skin brings
another groan and yell, Hoseok eventually resorting to pulling on Jungkook's
hair in order to control himself. His back arches wonderfully with every deep
thrust, younger absolutely crying at how tight the other boy is.  
Now, Jungkook begins filling his painting, biting and sucking bruises
on Hoseok's unmarked collarbones as he quickens his thrusts. The brunette loves
the sweet salt he tastes on the boy's skin; tasting of honey and all the sugary
things in the world. Absolutely delicious and addictive, making Jungkook drag
his tongue across Hoseok's jugular in an attempt to taste more.  
The older male's neck and chest are a mess of splotches of purple and
dark blue, looking fucked-out before he even begins to hook his legs over his
shoulders in order to deepen the angle. 
 (Jungkook's ears are filled with the wonderful sound of Hoseok chanting his
name like a prayer when he continuously hits his prostate once he does.) 
By the time he picks up the pace and goes in a harder, Hoseok is
a hiccupping mess in front of him. Even with the tight-grip, he keeps on the
latter's hips, he continues to bounce up on the bed with every thrust inside.
The sight is enough to make him come straight away, but he restricts himself
and focuses on fucking the boy until he's sure he can't walk the next day. 
Hoseok tugs on Jungkook's hair to tell him of his nearing climax, which had
come much sooner than he expected.  
Without sacrificing speed, Jungkook nods and relaxes a little, softening his
hold on his sharp hip-bones. "Do you think you could come, untouched?" 
The red-head nods his head, tears almost dropping out his eyes from how hard he
is being fucked into. The pleasure is too much for even him; a man who makes a
living off of having sex. Despite being called in by Jungkook on a
weekly basis, he still feels the same immense satisfaction from their
endeavors.  
Feeling his own climax, Jungkook thrusts even harder into Hoseok's tight hole.
His rough fucks get a little more jagged as the warm feeling begins to grow,
even more so when the older boy moves his hips back to get even more of his
cock. His dick was so good, that it drove him crazy. Perhaps too needy for his
own good.
 
Hoseok cries out Jungkook's name repeatedly as he finally orgasms, white
painting his chest as he rides it out. The younger's name is nothing but a
whisper by the time he finishes, voice failing to leave from the sheer
feeling of bliss he was currently in. It made him feel like he was floating,
bed beginning to feel like a soft cloud of pleasure. His name, however, sits
heavily on his tongue, waiting to be released in the same lewd manner he'd been
chanting earlier.
(His release makes Jungkook faint inwardly, making the boy look absolutely
ethereal underneath his rough hands.) 
When his hole clenches and puffs in overstimulation Jungkook realizes his own
climax, filling the condom with his come. Hoseok shivers at the feeling before
punching Jungkook, silently telling him to pull the fuck out because it really
damn hurts. 
The younger laughs and pulls away from the warm cavern, watching the older boy
breathe out in relief. 
 
 
As Jungkook finishes cleaning up, he watches Hoseok sleep peacefully on his bed
from the corner of his eye.  
 
(his masterpiece was hung and framed; then he must paint again.) 
 
 
 
He thinks he is love as he washes his face and heads to his occupied bed.  
Chapter End Notes
     dammit. two sex orientated stories and a chapter later, jean is still
     absolutely shit at writing smut. i'm sorry. i am. (lmao i saw a
     username called seokmydick. idk about you but it's a fockin great
     username).
     grace a.ka. mochimie: "lmao jean im even worse than you are."
     "omg jean you're such an attention whore in writing"
     "please help this girl w/ some comments cause i know this bitch will
     post my texts"
     (lol. i did. and yeah. please gimme some comments and kudos cause it
     makes me happy and emotional :))
     btw. would you guys be interested in a vhope orientated story? bottom
     hoseok as usual cause' once you read it once you get seoked in. ha.
     ha. jean is sorry again.
     (gonna post a special chapter on the 14th that i think will not be
     related to this universe, but still hopekook. ha. happy birthday to
     me.)
***** breezy *****
Chapter Notes
     okay so i'm lazy, so i'm going to stop putting the time stamps in the
     summary. i'll leave it up to you to guess when they happened. so i'll
     ask you at the end of the chapter; when do you think this happened?
     anyway, i have a story for vhope planned out now, (albeit very
     roughly), so look forward to seeing something later! if i have the
     confidence in posting lmao.
     again thank you so much for leaving so many kudos and hits on here!
     you guys are very sweet in the comments and every. single. word.
     makes me happy. i love you all so much :D
     not beta'd.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
 
 
 
     it should hit you like a train wreck 
     but it's nothing more than a soft gust of wind 
 
 breezy 
Jimin is in the middle of juggling three work reports and creating a balanced
timetable when he gets called into Jungkook's office. The sound of the buzz is
terrible and frightening at the same time; startling the poor boy and almost
making him spill his 'energizing' banana smoothie all over his hard work.
Despite this, he straightens his silk shirt out and makes a beeline for his
boss' office.  
(Jungkook was never one of extraordinary patience). 
 
When makes it to the glass double doors, he knocks patiently rests his forehead
against the panels. The day had brought about more exhaustion, especially with
the company's re-structuring and numerous partnerships. Jimin couldn't get any
more than five hours of sleep, working from nine-to-nine on a daily basis. The
commute was horrible with a horrendous amount of closures in one day, and the
traffic, lest Jimin wanted to drive, was even worse. 
Work, in short, is hell.  
But he loves Jungkook, his dear friend since birth, dearly, and appreciates all
the things he's done for him throughout his life. He's given him a job, his dad
a job, so on, so on. Without his help, Jimin may as well be a bum on the
street. So he endures, and keeps going until his bones ache and his mind is a
lot less functional than it used to be. In the end, somehow, he knows that this
is all worth it, and his loyalty and repayment will be of frutition.  
( Jimin is a drama queen) 
Jungkook finally yells an almost inaudible come in, making Jimin sigh in
relief. He wanted whatever the younger wished for done as soon as possible so
he can work, and quickly retreat to the comforts of his bed
and Namjoon. Namjoon, his stress reliever and daily dose of philosophical
quotes.  
He enters the pristine, black office and bows, before smiling the widest he
possibly can at the moment. Jimin feels his earring dangle heavily on his ears
while waiting for his boss to speak.  
Currently, Jungkook had his nose in his contracts and numerous papers that need
review, desk an utter mess of blank sheets and manila folders. He glances
upwards to his secretary after several moments and gives him a variation of a
smile in return.  
"I need you to get me some coffee," He starts as he sifts through deals and
partnerships, "And a bagel. Yes. Plain with cream cheese." 
The blonde blinks and nods his head, happy that he only needed food. Food,
would ultimately be the least of his problems now. He was a little shocked at
how simple the boy's request was in comparison to previous times, but he was
not complaining at all. Anything would be better than having to go to a
particularly far spot in the city, of which he'd lived in all his life but was
completely unfamiliar with. This was also better than having to talk to devil
wives of powerful businesssmen, and trying to lure spoiled brats into accepting
a company offer. He was, in fact, rejoicing.
A new coffee place had opened across the company building, making
everything convenient for him. He even knew someone who worked there; so he
could dash and maybe get a small croissant for free while he's ordering for
Jungkook. After that, he could finish the last of his work and be free of
chaining contracts by the end of the week.
Inside, his head chanted bednamjoonbednamjoonbednamjoon on repeat, the tiny
inhabitants of his brain coming together and squealing with joy. 
"Will that be all, sir?" Jimin asks, relief and happiness poking at his high
voice.  
Jungkook gives his secretary quick glance and smiles, teeth showing just
the slightest bit. The papers in his fatigued eyes magically rearrange
themselves, and the younger quickly pulls out a laptop. "Yes. And hyung, when
no one is around, just call me Jungkook." 
Jimin laughs and nods, bowing quickly before leaving to get some much-
needed caffeine.  
 
 
 
 
Jungkook looks at the coffee cup Jimin had given him, examining the sleeve for
the type of coffee.  
It read 'black', but the brew had tasted anything but black. It was not bland
and bitter, but rather warm and soft at the edges, providing energy and
awareness that trickled in your system bit by bit like sand in an hourglass. By
the end of the cup, he felt much more refreshed than he ever had after taking
coffee; more renewed than smoking a pack of his favourite cigarettes. This, in
Jungkook language, had meant a lot.  
While looking at the cup with furrowed eyebrows and puzzled fingers, he noticed
a small sticker with black sharpie on it. He looks closely at the print.  
'Server:' 
He looks below.  
'Hoseok.' 
 
The name tastes familiar on his tongue but he doesn't pay attention to it.  
Chapter End Notes
     wow. these two chapters have been really soft lately.
     not that i planned on making this angst, but oh well.
     oh minjoon, my sweet new cute pairing. they are so cute. god.
     especially shy namjoon and shy jimin i just- ugh. i'm dying inside. i
     hope to write more for them.
     if you enjoyed, please leave some kudos and comments :)
***** call me when you're lonely. *****
Chapter Summary
     n o t h i n g g o l d c a n s t a y.
Chapter Notes
     whoop. tomorrow is ya girl's birthday.
     she's also graduating next year. uwu.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Nature’s first green is gold,  
Her hardest hue to hold.  
Her early leaf’s a flower;  
But only so an hour. 
Then leaf subsides to leaf.  
So Eden sank to grief,  
So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay. 
-Robert Frost, Nothing Gold Can Stay  
 
call  me when you're lonely 
The second time maybe. Or the third. Jungkook doesn't remember. He doesn't
remember because whiskey has clouded his mind and changed his tongue to ash. He
tries to swallow and smile; do something, but his head and his memories hurt
too much to be able to function. His brain tries to think, tries, really; and
he would thank it for its hard work, along with the rest of his body because of
the years of abuse it had put up with. Jungkook would give it a million gold
stars if it could. A million gold stars for keeping up with his
disgusting behaviour and terrible coping methods. So, he tries to sing, to at
least give his vocal chords the reward of sweet strain rather than smoke and
death.  
(nothing comes out from his throat except dry swallows and incoherent sentences
of curses or sobs). 
     But when he sees that boy; god, that boy, he thinks the world will be
alright. He's all dark eyes and ashen hair; pretty limbs and slender hands.
Jungkook thinks that such a boy shouldn't be out spending time with disgusting
men and crazed women, so he tells the boy when they meet again outside the same
club. The same shitty bass is still playing, and the same neon lights flicker.
The same lead cigarette weighs heavily on his tongue. He says it and the boy
stares at him with lined eyes and blinks, smiles all prettily againbefore he
gives him a card and wishes him a good night. Not a thing is spared from his
beauty when he leaves, clinking heels against too-harsh pavement.  
 
Hope.  
XXX-XXX-XXXX 
Call me when you feel too lonely for your own good.  
 
The second time maybe. Or the third. Jungkook doesn't remember because every
moment with the boy;hope, is too fleeting and too quick. 
 
Chapter End Notes
     it's going to be positive 3 degrees tomorrow here in toronto. god
     bless.
***** disjointed *****
Chapter Summary
     d i s j o i n t e d.
Chapter Notes
     i know y'all like smut but i don't think chapters of *ehem, the
     nasty* will come very often. partly because i don't have to write
     such time-consuming scenes, and partly because i still need to
     improve my writing in that area. in other ways. sorry if you were
     looking forward to it. i promise i'll post one i pre-wrote though.
      
     uhhh also this chapter has implied rape. kind of. i'll be delving
     deeper into the kind of part later.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
i think I'm wrong 
being this way.  
 
disjointed  
Jiwoo was in love with ball-jointed dolls. She loved the way their intricate
details came together to make a beautiful doll; loved the way everything moved,
and how everything about it can be changed according
to preference. Hoseok loved that part too. That you can make it unique; no two
figures were the same. He wanted to change and customize it too; wanted to
groom it, wanted to make it his own distinctively.  
 
 
Hoseok, grits his teeth and cries, mascara running down his teary face. He
doesn't care if his makeup is ruined; but he does care about the man sitting in
front of him, back toward his body. His eyes continue to sting with tears the
more he stares, but he wishes that his immense staring would bring about the
destruction of the other. An unlit cigarette rests in his hands, red scratch
marks still very visible on the expanse of his milky skin. 
Perhaps, he should take pride in that. Maybe. Maybe he should be happy such a
thing was apparent like most people are.  
(he isn't. He is disgusted.) 
Instead he sobs harder and tries to bury himself in the white comforter, face
flushed with anger and a plethora of other emotions he couldn't even begin
naming. The veins on his neck become more prominent as he continues, despite
the annoyance he can feel coming from the other.  
"I hate you." He growls, voice shaky and unstable. His throat constricts at the
ghosting feeling of fingers wrapped tightly around his neck, windpipe crushing
in on itself. It felt like his entire being wanted to burn, wanted to be taken
apart, but he knew escape or defense is futile against him.  
He doesn't even bat an eyelash as he lights up the stick, the distinct smell of
ash and loneliness filling up the room. He breathes out the smoke, leaning back
a little as he does so.  
"Princess, everyone does." 
There's a laugh, but Hoseok doesn't find it funny.  
 
 
(he hates ball-jointed dolls.) 
 
Chapter End Notes
     i'm pretty sure you all know who that dude is. let me know who you
     think it is ;)
***** supermodel *****
Chapter Summary
     s u p e r m o d e l
Chapter Notes
     happy birthday hobi! i hope my ult has the best the ever and my baby
     boy is happy and healthy. this chapter was a little rushed so i can
     put it out on his birthday, so i apologize if there are spelling,
     grammar mistakes etc.
     also, sorry i've been putting in a lot of, uh, not hopekook centric
     chapters. kinda just wanted to build a universe a little. the next
     one will be hopekook for sure.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
I don't see myself 
Why I can't stay alone just by myself? 
Wish I was comfortable just with myself 
But I need you 
I need you 
-SZA, Supermodel 
 
supermodel 
He will crawl back. He will crawl back and grovel at his feet, cry and kiss his
own tears away just to be with the one person whom he can call home. Because
home was where cigarette smoke and Calvin Klein colognes were. He was the place
where warmth and love were found in odd nooks and crannies, replacing coldness
and confession and death and sadness.  
(hoseok fell in love at sixteen, cried for the first time at seventeen,
and mourned at nineteen). 
 
Min Yoongi was Jiwoo's friend. He was all black leather and pierced ears;
cigarettes and bleached hair. He was the example of sweetie don't
talk to this boy but Jiwoo did so anyway. Hoseok was sure that their mother and
father were crying from wherever they were, just by looking at him. But he paid
no mind to the older boy. He simply watched from afar, gave curt nods, and
ignored his burning stares.  
(a few lingering stares and five months later, Hoseok found himself talking to
Min Yoongi, despite his better judgement.)
 
They sit in the playground Hoseok always went to as a child. The monkey bars
seem to be getting weaker, but the two still decide to sit there. The years of
wear and tear get to the set: tarnishing red and creaky metal blend together to
make his favourite childhood passtime. It reminds Hoseok of the passing time
that sifts through their fingers like sand. He wants to hold it in place and
stop it from flowing, but it slips through, and months pass into years and
infatuations turn into loves.  
He visits the park after five years, the day Hoseok turns fifteen.  
The older of the two blows out a deep, settling smoke, the air becoming putrid
and intoxicated. His nonchalance is evident as he continues, Hoseok sharing in
the disturbing smoke. The black-haired boy scrunches his nose in disgust and
shifts uncomfortably on the bars.  
"Your smokes are going to kill me one day." Hoseok whines, setting his mouth
into a pout to emphasize his distress. 
Yoongi doesn't spare him a glance as he pulls the younger to his chest, blowing
out another white puff. His laugh fills the empty park and blooms warmly
in Hoseok's chest.  
"No one told you to hang around, Seok." Yoongi laughs as he purposely blows
smoke into Hoseok's face. The latter contorts his expression into utter
disgust, throat choking up and coughing from the intake.
Hoseok rolls his eyes and tries to pry himself off of Yoongi. "I have no choice
cause' you're my only friend." 
 
-
They go to the same place every Friday. The same monkey bars and the same old
park. 
This time Yoongi comes with an even more damaging cigarette between his fingers
and Hoseok is seventeen. 
"Isn't it funny how you're my only friend, even if I've gone to school longer
than you have?"
Yoongi blows a smoke out, tar settling deep within his lungs. 
"Sure."
"You're like my best friend now, I guess." Hoseok says with a little resistance
in his voice, because his heart says you love him but his brain says don't say
it. He tries to go for in-between, but it comes out much more stiff than he had
expected. 
"Do you want to be?" He asks. 
The older boy stares down at him and keeps the cigarette peeled in his mouth.
There is nothing but silence for a remainder of the time they stare, before
Yoongi shifts his gaze to something of question and curiosity.
Hoseok lays on his lap silently, brown eyes staring back at Yoongi's black
ones. His blond hair falls down and frames his face like a willow tree; making
the latter blush and blink furiously. A million thoughts run through his mind
as they stare back at each other without a word, eye-contact remaining for a
brief few moments before Yoongi exhales above Hoseok and haphazardly throws
the Marlboro away.  
He then pulls his collar and kisses him with intent and fervor, but his tongue
never once leaves the vicinity of his mouth. 
"I don't want to be." Yoongi says with the tips of his teeth poking out, eyes
boring down at his flushed face. The lingering taste of candy and ash stick
on Hoseok's lips like a stain even as he pulls away. Each familiar taste leaves
him breathless and in awe. Each taste ignites a fire in his belly, relentless
and eager to burn.
"Yeah?" Hoseok asks as he runs his tongue along his bottom lip in an attempt to
taste; more, more, he wants to scream, but he doesn't ask for anything else but
clarification on their kiss. It stays on his lips well after Yoongi's 
explained, repeating explanations filling his deaf ears. He simply can't let go
of such an important, and eye opening even in thw span of a few minutes.
 
Finally, Yoongi laughs and hugs him close, giving him a promise of happiness,
and love, because I like you Seok, god.  
The biting cold only aids in reddening his deep pink cheeks, something that
follows him all the way home and to his bedroom.  
 
 
 
Yoongi makes him feel like a Supermodel.  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
It was bliss once more, and Hoseok fell more in love. He fell in love and it
rooted him into its shrill tendrils, wrapping around him until he couldn't
breathe. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. He was a supermodel again and
the world was his runway. The lights glared down at him, and Yoongi flashed him
the biggest smile he could while walking down the white stage.  
Chapter End Notes
     what do you think happened? huehuehue.
      
     yoongi is not a bad person. promise. stuff just happened.
***** masterlist *****
Chapter Notes
     in case you want to see the order.
pre-jungkook
purgatorio
supermodel
disjointed
 
year 1
sway
tired
breezy
call_me_when_you're_lonely
 
year 2
persona
afternoon_pine_and_smoke
 
year 3
the_painter
 
year 4
white_sheets
***** tired *****
Chapter Notes
     anxiety can go eat my ass. anyways i'm back and hell i didn't plan
     that long hiatus. shit just happened but now i'm back.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
oh little bird,  
Why do you return to your cage when freedom is there? 
 
tired 
Hoseok has done many things. 
Over his twenty-something years of life, he'd done many
things. Things is general, Hoseok  .
He'd made friends. Turned in homework late. Loved a few special people. Many
things. Good things.   
Good things because he was a good boy. Uncles told him he was a good boy. And
good boys do good things like bad boys do bad things and get their hands broken
by justice, so Hoseok believes he has done good things for the majority of his
crumpled life. But everything has a good and bad outcome, his far-too distant
aunts told him. They tell him every time he came to live with them, bouncing
from one relative from another like a gymnast on a trampoline. 
He has done many, many things.  
You're such a confident young boy, aunt-something told him when he was a mere
eight-years-old and when he still believed that the world was such a
wonderful place. Keep it up and you'll be successful uncle-whatever said when
he came over and played with his cousins. 
But when his hands become soaked in dirtiness and innocence left his childish
hands, he was something else. When blood soaked his bones and chilled his
arteries he became something else. When he stared blankly at his mother's
picture he turned into something else. And the same feeling that ate up his
mother ate him up too and now he's choking up in vines that constrict too
tightly around his throat and wooden paddles that smack too gently on his
hardened palms.  
Where is he now, auntie? 
In a whore house trying to sell himself and he's a fucking disappointment
because he can't even attract any customers with his thin bones and beaten up
eyes. 
Where is the good boy? 
Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. He's dead. 
Where is the boy with eyes of happiness? Where is the confidence? 
Somewhere that he can't remember.  
Who is he now? 
Even he doesn't know.  
 
Hoseok has done many things and he can't remember when the good choices became
rotten. What did he do that caused this bad ending? Where is the
restart button? Where does he get to use his extra lives?  
 
I'm a good boy I'm a good boy I'm a good boy 
 
"Good boys do well in life," Aunt-abuser told him when he gets hit by the
justice tool he hates too much and his hands feel like breaking apart like a
bad boy's. "Palms up. You don't talk back to me about your pretender friends
okay?" Sweet smile.  
 
I'm a good boy I'm a good boy I'm a good boy 
 
He wants to press it so bad, so fucking bad, with his blood-soaked hands and
tear-stained eyes. He wants to find paradise, and god, why do Yoongi and mother
get to taste it so early? Why do they get the restart button before he can even
get to their level?  
Why do they fly away before he can even become a butterfly?  
 
 
I'm a good boy I'm a good boy I'm a good boy I'm a good boy I m a g o  o  d b o
y 
 
 
 
 
Good boys do good things, so as much as he wants to die he doesn't.
Chapter End Notes
     love you guys. seriously thank you for all the love.
***** teenage fantasy *****
Chapter Notes
     holy shit. i wrote more than 500 words.
     (i was looking back at my old stuff which had more than 20,00 words
     in seven chapters and i'm like how- but don't be fooled, it was shit
     writing)
     also, i accidentally posted my draft for vhope so sorry if you saw
     it. now it's kinda spoiled, but i deleted it. whoo.
     thanks for your love :DDDD
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
 
Hoseok pulls himself off of his place in Jungkook's lap, chest still breathing
heavily. An ache began to settle uncomfortably in his lower legs, thighs
clenching and relaxing in an attempt to try and soothe the burn. His lower-half
was also in a lot of pain, licks of sting crawling up his spine and into his
legs. This pain, however, was nothing that he wasn't used to.  
He shifts and moves over to the side of the overly-large bed, satin sheets
crumpling under his quick and frantic movements. His thin fingers try to search
for his garments and supplies while Jungkook busies himself with cleaning
himself up in his washroom.   
The younger's post-sex haze was still evident in the blown look of his pupils
and the burning desire that flickers in his face. He, however, knew better than
to refrain from asking for round two. Jungkook was heartless, but not heartless
enough to torture someone's who got enough sadness in their eyes to mourn for
the two of them. 
Jungkook just stares in the mirror with his bare chest and boxers,
watching Hoseok get ready from the corner of the glass. Bony hands fumble for
wipes and tired eyes stare into nothing as layers of clothing come on. He can't
see much purpose nor drive and determination in the person he watches, but he
guesses that this is the way life is.
 
 
(Living is tiring. He can vouch for that.)
 
Hoseok takes the money left prepared beforehand on the dresser. If he was lucky
today, Jungkook would slip in an extra bill and his fucking rent could be paid
early. The disgusting landlord won't have to hound him, and no forced sexual
acts will have to happen.
 
(not today. A frown graces his too-exhausted lips.) 
 
 
The brunette turns away and shuts the door, leaving Hoseok alone in the
entrance to his bedroom.
 
 
teenage  fantasy I 
 
The red-head sits on Jungkook's couch with his beaten-up bag and beaten-up
self, waiting for the other to eventually find him. He knows that the younger
boy always opts for a glass of water after smoking, which he was currently
doing. Hoseok knew because the smell of tobacco and tar is too strong to merely
be an after-scent. 
His back is perfectly straight against the white leather and his hands are
folded neatly in his lap. Nervousness shakes him a little because this is the
first time he will be directly interacting with Jungkook outside of the sex and
calls, a feat to behold as silence usually drapes over them when the deed has
been done and Hoseok has been paid.  
In actuality, the older boy loses a bit of his emotion and dignity every time
he accepts Jungkook's frequent calls. To some extent, it helps that he is the
only who does call, but it does not take away from the fact his body is being
used a vessel of pleasure, and that he was becoming a lifeless doll in order to
make ends meet.  
What does Jungkook even do to be able to afford such luxuries and paying some
call boy hundreds of dollars every visit? 
"Huh?" A rasped, yet sweet voice calls out. The lights in the living room turn
on. 
Hoseok bites his lip and whips his head around to Jungkook, the door to his
bedroom opening revealing his large figure. There is an unlit cigarette between
his lips, and Hoseok to some extent was correct. He quickly stands up and bows
deeply, every last shred of pride and self-respect he had for himself going
down the drain along with the rest of his ambitions. It isn't anything new.  
It isn't, he tries to reason with himself.  
"Sorry to bother, but the buses aren't operating at this time. I kind of, need
a temporary place to stay for one or two hours." 
Jungkook blinks his eyes and blankly stares at him.  
"Oh." 
Oh.  
"Okay." 
Okay? 
The younger swallows and strides over to his kitchen, swiftly grabbing a
water bottle. At this time Hoseok fixes his aching back and slumps against the
sofa, cool material soothing his exerted skin.  
"Thank you." Hoseok calls out, hoping that his voice could be heard. A muffled
sound and gulp is all he gets in response, though he sighs in relief. Engaging
in conversation with him was a little awkward on his part.  
His relief is short-lived.  
Jungkook scares him by inviting him to stand outside with him on his balcony,
overlooking the view of Seoul at fucking ass-o'clock in the morning. There is a
hint of longing in his voice and Hoseok cringes at the familiar sound. 
Goosebumps form at his skin just at the thought of the harsh cold he'll be
greeted with as he sits on the twelfth-floor; they form at the thought of
suddenly sharing an early-morning conversation of possibly spilling untold
secrets to a man he may as well know as a stranger. Hair raises on his clean
and shaven arms, just thinking about it.  
It also did scare him quite a bit. Yes, Jungkook and him have been 'fucking'
for a few months already. Though the thought of hospitaliy from such a person
had quite honestly shocked him, leaving him at surprise.
 
But hey, he's got nothing to lose at this point. Aside from his life, which
should've ended long ago, but he is too much a wuss to fucking end it
himself. Maybe God still has plans for me, he tells himself when almost did one
time. His hands were shaking like a leaf; Hoseok was surprised that
the multicoloured pills didn't just drop on the floor and scatter.  
(Jiwoo found him later. She cried even harder than when their mother died,
words along the line of "I'll make it better," and "Please don't leave Seok-
ah" leaving her bitten lips. He never tried again after that.) 
 
 
"Okay." Hoseok finds himself breathing out. 
 
 
 
 
 
teenage  fantasy II 
 
Sitting outside on Jungkook's balcony has somewhat become a routine for them.  
Jungkook calls at midnight. 
Hoseok comes. 
They have sex.  
They end at times too early to think. Too early for buses to actually run.  
Hoseok talks. Jungkook talks.  
Hoseok goes.  
Hoseok sleeps. 
 
(twelve or more hours without sleep can take a toll. For Hoseok, it's in his
eyes and his already too-thin build.) 
 
 
 
 
 
"I don't like my job." Hoseok starts, leaning over the glass edges. Many
buildings still twinkle with light, illuminating the sad city with some
semblance of hard-work and hope. Some of them might be like him.  
He hopes not.  
Jungkook barks out a laugh, cigarette smoke trailing the sweet sound as he
opens his mouth. He takes the Camel out his mouth and begins to try and blow in
a controlled manner, careful to avoid Hoseok's face. It quite frankly won't
make a difference at this point; Hoseok's sure he'll get fucking lung cancer
from all the smoke he's inhaled this past year.  
"Shit, I didn't know that." Sarcasm drips from Jungkook's
voice, Hoseok doing an eye-roll in response. 
"Why do you even pay me so much?" 
The younger cranes his neck towards him and tilts his head. This time, he
intentionally blows a thick stream of smoke into the older boy's face. He
abruptly coughs, making Jungkook laugh again. 
"Why are you complaining? Do you want me to pay you minimum wage for being
fucked roughly?" 
"No."  
"Then I don't see a problem."  
Hoseok has a half a mind to go and slap the boy silly; to ask him why the hell
he even enjoys his company but he just keeps such thoughts to himself. 
The wind blows roughly against his balcony. Jungkook clamps down on his
cigarette and takes a deep inhale; enough to keep the rattling of his bones
calm with the nicotine, enough to shush the deadly thoughts that cloud his
head. Silence fills the small gap between the two, the soft sound air whistling
and cars moving filling in their empty conversation. 
"What do you do for a living?" The older finally asks, leaning his head into
his arms. His eyes stare out into the rest of the city, all sharp skyscrapers
and brightly lit buildings.  
"I'm a CEO." Is all Jungkook says, back leaning against the railing. He's too
tired of the same blackness that always crowds the view when he steps out. 
"That explains why you shit money." 
"Yeah well, having money is all fun and games until you realize you're handsome
enough to get laid but you're still real fuckin' lonely." 
This time it's Hoseok's turn to laugh, a melodic sound coming out albeit a
little strangled and breathy. Maybe what they did earlier took a toll
on Hoseok's frail body.  
 
"Just change 'having money' to broke as hell, and you have me." The red-head
jokingly says, but his voice is enough to tell that his self-deprecating jokes
were much too true.  
 
 
 
 
Jungkook stares off into the sky, light pollution too strong for him and his
superhuman eyes to even catch some glimpse of a constellation. It's a little
sad, he thinks, because now he misses his shitty hometown and his shitty mother
and how she used to take him out to see the stars. Actual stars he could see
without the use of some sort of telescope, nor app.  
 
"I know." He breathes out with a lifetime's experience in his calloused hands,
catching Hoseok off guard.  
Chapter End Notes
     if you enjoyed, please leave some comments and kudos uwu
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
