babyboy

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yoongi sits on the creaky stool, tuning out the blaring music and loud voices around him. the club isn't one of his favorite places, but that's where his dad met the love of his life, so here he is. the club reminds him of his mother. filled with things, memories, stories, something everybody has a connection to. his mother was someone you could always go to. she would fix you, help you with your problems, support you, and all without payment or appreciation. his mom was a special woman. a woman who everyone loved and wished to come back, but Yoongi didn't resemble her at all anymore. he used to be kind and gentle, but now he's a man that's lost the trust of the only people who loved him for who he was.

so here yoongi is, not exactly sure why. maybe drinking helps him solve or forget his problems, he hoped atleast. but here he is, Jimin running through his mind a million miles per hour. he considered smoking, but he promised jimin he would stop that. he promised jimin a whole new yoongi, but one drunken night won't hurt.

yoongi glances to the side when he feels a slender hand clamp around his forearm. he stares at the girl. her chest and most of her legs are revealed, and yoongi can tell she's wearing a push-up bra. her black hair is curled and pulled around her chest, giving it more of an outline. she is pressed against yoongi, trying to cause friction. "hey, babe," She whispers, and a plan comes into yoongi's mind. he grins and wraps his arm around her, pulling her onto his lap. "hey," He responds, faking a sly smile. she giggles, trying to hide her blush behind her hair.

"come on, yuna," he says, forcing a smile. the drunk girl clings onto his arm and her heels clank against the ground.

yoongi drags her to his shared apartment, and he struggles to pull her inside. he finds jimin on the couch, halfway passed out. when he hears the door slam close, Jimin wakes up. "w-who's she?" He stutters upon noticing the intoxicated girl. she's the only female to ever enter the house beside their mom.

"my girlfriend," Yoongi says, gritting his teeth at the word. jimin can't even respond. yoongi sits down and pulls Yuna onto his lap, practically cringing. she nestles into the crook of his neck, her hair falling onto him. soon enough, she's passed out.

"You don't have to get a girlfriend to make me jealous," jimin says sadly, desperately wishing jungkook was there

"That's not my intention at all," Yoongi lies, "i just want a girlfriend. I love her. and I believe I have the legal rights to date a female," he finishes, not turning to look at jimin. the younger begins to grow frustrated.

"well, since you find it okay to bring a girl over here, I guess it's okay to invite my boyfriend over here," jimin says through gritted teeth, pulling out his phone.

"okay," Yoongi says, his chest growing heavy.

jiminnie: jungkookie please come over and pretend to be my boyfriend. yoongi brought home a girl, and he said he loves her but I know he's trying to make me jealous. it's only fair I return the favor.. and if he doesn't actually love her, he would try to get me back, right?

jungkookie: yea okay I'll be there soon. but if he tries to hurt me I'm telling him the plan, alright?

jiminnie: okay but please hurry jungkookie your hugs are the best

jungkookie: okay baby don't worry I'll be there soon, love you

jimin practically bounds to the door when jungkook knocks on it, dragging him inside. he quickly turns on a movie and pulls the younger onto the couch, immediately curling into him. in love or not, Jungkook automatically makes him feel warmer and nice. jimin tries to pay attention to yoongi's reaction, but now he's too content to care.

yoongi glares at the couple, more specifically at the younger hugging jimin. jimin looks so happy, so pure and angelic. Maybe jungkook is better for jimin, maybe he won't treat him like yoongi did. his gaze pierces through Jungkook's back as he observes him, how he pets his head and rubs his back.

he feels jealous, jealous of how he touches his babyboy.

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aYY some drama and jikook action 4 u lmao