TAEGI SMUTS [ᵃᵒ3]

Hold Me Again (So I Can Feel You)

Ao3 by : ploutons

Summary :

“You see, Sir, we are a Very Serious Massage Parlour,” Taehyung inclines his head. “And we only want the best for our clients.”

Or: Taehyung proposes for them to do a massage roleplay.

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The door behind him closes with a click. So loud in the dim-lit room it sounds deafening. Min Yoongi takes in the space surrounding him, decorated in a way he almost fails to recognize. The curtains for the floor to ceiling window are drawn although it’s nighttime. There are several aromatherapy candles in various spots, ablaze, sending off multiple scents that somehow blend throughout the room. A recliner bed is placed a meter away from the window, occupying a portion of the room — the most important portion, too. Yoongi’s favorite section. On top of the bed, a bottle of what he presumes contains massage oil lies. Next to the bottle, a towel is folded and placed neatly.

At last, his gaze lands on the only occupant in the room, the masseur, who’s looking at him with a beam.

It is, decidedly, a nice smile. But Yoongi is here for one and only one purpose: a massage. Therefore, it sounds inappropriate to delve further into that line of thought. He tucks it away into the deepest part of his mind.

The man, previously crouching down — inspecting the sheets thrown over the bed, slowly stands and steps closer.

“Hello.”

His voice is nice. Deep, velvety. Yoongi likes it. It seems fitting for a masseur to have a nice voice — if not, how else are they going to soothe the clients? How else are they going to converse with the clients as they massage them? Some people might prefer silence — and there may be masseurs who fulfill the request, too. But, personally, Yoongi opts for the other way.

“Hello,” Yoongi replies, his own voice thick. “I’m here for a massage?” He says, though it is phrased like a question.

The man’s eyes glint, as if saying— of course you’re here for a massage, what else you’re here for? but doesn’t offer anything else besides nodding and gesturing for the bed separating them. Yoongi swallows heavily, and he strolls closer to the bed.

“Ah,” The masseur says, and Yoongi promptly stops in his tracks. Closer, now, he’s able to catch the man’s name tag. Kim Taehyung, it is written. “You must strip off your clothes first.”

“My clothes?” Yoongi echoes, looking away from Taehyung’s chest. Clothed chest.

“Yes,” Taehyung answers. His expression serene when he resolutely adds, “We require our clients to be naked.”

“Naked.” Yoongi deadpans, breaking out of character in an instant. He almost rolls his eyes when Taehyung glares at him. Taehyung knows he’s not a good actor, and he thinks he shouldn’t be blamed for how he performs. He also thinks Taehyung should at least realize that this is what he signed up for when he first presented the script to Yoongi.

But then Taehyung simply clears his throat, and says, “Yes,” His voice is light when he continues, “We will, of course, cover your body parts with a towel.”

“Right, of course,” Yoongi replies. “Wouldn’t want anything improper happening.”

“That is correct. You see, Sir, we are a Very Serious Massage Parlour,” Taehyung inclines his head. “And we only want the best for our clients.”

Taehyung turns around, then, facing the window with a promise that he’s not going to peek — because it is untoward and not at all in line with what the parlour wishes to offer. Yoongi swiftly strips his clothes off. He hesitates, but he asks, “The underwear, too?”