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!