04: Kookie Baby

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You can't help your knee-jerk reaction to the pain.

When the prick of the needle stabs into your skin, your automatic motion is to screech and thrash away from the source of the hurt, throwing out your elbow in the process.

It meets something solid.

"Holy freaking heck!"

There's a crash following the shout as Jungkook abruptly slides away from you, tattoo gun forgotten in one hand as the other clutches his right eye. Expletives start pouring out of his mouth, and he keels over in pain.

"Oh my goodness!" Guilt swamping you, you swing your legs over the side of the chair, reaching out to him. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

"Don't. Touch. Me." His disgruntled glare makes your hand immediately move back toward your body.

Okay, so maybe your reaction was a tad overkill , but you have a very low pain tolerance. It was an accident - that doesn't merit his attitude.

Put off by his once-again rude reply to your apology, you sit back and simply watch as he tenderly feels around his eye.

"Crap," the black-haired man sighs as his fingers dance around his skin. "That's gonna bruise."

You're about to apologize again, hoping for a better response, when the sound of a door slamming somewhere in the building makes you pause. Who on earth is opening or closing the door loud enough for you to hear all the way back here?

A second later, loud, crashing footsteps pound through the hallway, growing progressively in volume as they near the back room you're located in. 

The door almost caves in with the force of a body flying through it, and the next thing you know, you're staring at a slender orange-headed man poised in the doorway, panting in exertion and raising what appears to be a golf club over his shoulder in a threatening position.

His full lips have remained un-pierced, but each of the sweet hollows of his cheeks are studded by a single silver ball. His face is cute and innocent, an abrupt contrast to the overall mischievousness glinting in his eyes. His ears, however, are totally full of every type of piercing you could get there. Rings line the upsweeping shell of his ear, and the tragus is pierced as well. A familiar cross tattoo is on the upper curve of his cheek.

"What is it, Kookie?!" the man cries, gaze vigorously scanning the room. "Who hurt my baby? Who do I need to kill?"

His tank top reveals a tattoo of a cluster of flowers creeping up the side of his neck. You can't help but notice a few obvious similarities between his tattoo and yours, but they're also different enough to not worry you about the originality of your own tattoo.

You stare at him with wide eyes, not making any sudden movements in case Jungkook decides to throw you under the bus.

Nostrils flared, the man takes in the scene of Jungkook covering his eyes with one hand and you, sitting on the edge of the recliner with your pants around your knees.

"Jimin hyung," Jungkook groans, throwing his head back in misery. "I'm fine. Everyone's fine. I'm an adult."

The man, Jimin, scrambles over to Jungkook and takes his chin in between his fingers. Tilting the black-haired man's jaw back and forth as he worriedly inspects his eye, Jimin glances back at you.

"Who are you?" he growls protectively. "Did you try to come on to my boyfriend?" He turns back to your tattoo artist while you gape in shock. "Did she do this to you?"

Well, there's one reason it didn't bother Jungkook when you had to undress.

He bats for the other team.

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