Gold Dust || JJK

54 - Interlude: Shadow

Jungkook

It's the sweat beads hanging on my eyebrows that tell me I am getting close to my climax. The movement of my wrist is automatic and premeditated, and given all the years I trained myself, I don't need to put a lot of thinking into it.

Just like riding a bicycle.

My left arm is extended, hand plastered on the wall in front of me to sustain my weight, as the right one fists up and down my dick. Luckily, the studio is empty this late in the night, having Yoongi and I the only ghosts haunting the building.

I know. That won't pamper the excuse of masturbating like a teenager in the bathroom.

My sexual abstinence could quickly apply for a monk position in a 5 kilometers church radius and they would all be fucking thrilled to have me as a faithful disciple. It goes without saying that it aggravates my cravings.

A whole damn month passed since I had sex - if the embarrassing attempt counts as sex - and I found myself having random boners that ache for relief. Which, by all means, I deliver. But flying solo, so I can avoid a similar shameful episode.

Took me a long discussion with Faye to assure her that what happened had absolutely nothing to do with her, but I didn't stomach the courage to actually prove it. Would have been easy if I think about it since my dick is the first to say hi to her when I get home. Getting fucking hard and enthusiastic, almost holding an invisible bouquet of flowers in her presence.

My mind? Oh, sweet fucking Lord, an unforgiving cunt.

Extra points for my anger outburst two weeks ago during the Halloween party, where I not only got into a fight with Hobi's flatmate but somehow, I also managed to break Hobi's nose. If Faye had any intentions of meeting me in the middle of my crisis, the little stunt I pulled took that decision for her.

I lost it. I lost it so fucking bad it unlocked that part of me I thought died a long time ago. Guess my poor reputation precedes me.

It came all like an avalanche of bad calls, a lapse of judgment, and an imprudent aneurysm the moment Rosé and Yoongi joined us, Rosé's pupils as huge as a cyclone, temptingly sucking me in the eye of the hurricane, with a calm and quiet smile.

A petition for self-destruction.

I won't lie, the occasional smoking session with her saved me from an unavoidable tension with the love of my life. Yet, the word unavoidable itself should have rang some bells in my tiny fucking brain.

Just a temporary distraction.

The one that allowed me to forget about my problems and the uncertain future as bright as the apocalypse, and give Faye a taste of the man she fell in love with. It seized away the emptiness and granted me access to the dances I'd missed for over two months, to the late-night conversations I avoided, to the sweet-nothings that made her so happy.

That's the price I have to pay for not opening up to what I'm going through: numb my mind with the fog of weed; something I have sworn I'd never do again.