K-Fluffs

Black Suit

Jungkook pov

The man on stage wasn't anything like I'm used to seeing. The man on stage was confident, sensual, and knew exactly what he was doing to the adoring fans before us. The man on stage wore all black, his eyes piercing into the hearts of those who stand to face him, and his moves like the flow of a river. He licked and bit mercilessly at the pink lips that sat plump on his face, standing out against the makeup on his face. How could he change so quickly from just a few moments ago?

The black suit he wore was a velvety texture and smooth on his skin, flowing through the ruffles of wind that dare go toward the man. He had shiny black shoes that moved across the floor in unrecognizable patterns, mesmerizing the people who watch. The breaths he takes form steam, floating into the air as he continues what he was doing as though he is completely unbothered by it. The suit he wore always made him confident, he felt powerful, he knew he could have whatever he wanted from whoever he wanted. He had power. He knew, though, that abusing it would end it.

His voice resonated throughout the area, the deep, silky vibrations that erupted from his throat to form a beautiful, melodious sound. He moved with his words, his words on the beat, and his voice taking over. His voice was captivating, gathering the attention from not only females, but males, staff workers, other idols, me. He knew he had me, his voice moving to everyone but I felt a little more than they did. Perhaps because I was standing so close, because I know how he got to where he is. Perhaps because of the words he speaks, who he's talking to, where his eyes are looking.

His eyes seem to meet mine often, scanning over everyone as he slows down, remembering where I stood. I stood speechless as his deep eyes pierced mine. He smirked, his eyes crinkled slightly and his glare intensified. A fire, heat was coming off of him. His eyes showed passion, showed skill, showed hard work, showed desire. He looked at me again, his eyes becoming icy within seconds. I turned away, afraid that if I looked too long then I would become stone as madusa does to others where I will be forced to stand without complaint. His eyes stare into mine, enlarging and shrinking, softening and icing over. His hands distracted my eyes.

His hands were waving in several directions, all over the stage and area he stood. His fingers were long and slender, the nails sharp and properly taken care of. His skin never peeled and he had no calluses, he never had to deal with annoying, dead skin. His hands pointed to the crowd, stopping or slowing every now and then, before coming to a complete stop at me. He holds the position, holding it until he turns his head and his hair flops into a new place.

His hair was a mess of silver and ash gray, gentle waves going through them. His locks are soft and never seem to die off, even after all of the dying. They frame his face as the most elegant framework would a painting, a painting worth seven digits. I felt a wave of warmth, my hands shaking as I remember the feeling of his hair running through my finger tips. I felt my knees weaken as I remember the feeling of the body underneath the suit. I feel my heart throb as I remember the man who is hidden behind the one on stage at this moment. I feel my eyes become glassy as I wish for the man to come back.

The man off stage, just a few moments ago, was weak and felt for everyone. The man from just a few moments ago looked into my eyes and pleaded me to stay with him, his brown eyes glassy. The man once sat in my arms, asking to be held, and now its as though he's spitting on the ones below him. I felt a connection to the man before, knowing all about what he desires and what he's afraid of. I know what he's capable of, and what he will never do.

I stared off into the distance, seeing the man on stage conclude it all and take deep breaths. I saw his eyes scan the crowd, becoming the soft hazel I know so well. I saw his posture shrink and his smirk disappear, all that's left is the man I know in the suit of one I have only see from across a sea of people. He was lowered from the stage, brought to the ground where everyone stands, becoming one of who he looked down upon. I stepped back to where he was brought down and slowly approached him, peeking around each corner. I finally spotted him and came up in front of him.

He looked my way, his soft eyes meeting mine and brightening with glee. He ran over and wrapped his arms around me, digging his face into my hair. I smelled his familiar scent, only slight traces under all of the cologne that was sprayed onto him. He smiled large, tugging my hand to bring me into a separate room. I followed, remembering the same feeling from when we first got close. I closed my eyes and allowed him to lead me, basking in the feeling of his hand in mine.

"Jungkookie," my name flowing from his lips sounded so good, his voice making it sound sensual even when it wasn't supposed to be. I finally allowed my eyes to flutter open, finding him standing there with an exhausted yet pleased expression. "How was it?" He asked, his eyes trained on mine, his fingers lacing within mine. I looked down at our hands, feeling a warmth flood through me once again. I looked up at him, thinking of every adjective I could use to describe it.

Gorgeous, wonderful, breathtaking, hot, captivating, illicebrous.

"It was nice. Lovely, you looked really good, too." I smiled softly, ignoring anything else I had originally thought. He faltered on his expression, a sense of disappointment coming over him for a moment. He quickly washed it away and smiled slightly at me, pulling me closer than before.

"Uh, thanks," he spoke quietly, his face coming in closer. I felt the heat of his breath on my lips, fanning out over my cheeks. He released my hand and snaked his arms around my waist, tugging my body closer to his as he guides my arms around his neck. I got nervous, not wanting to get in trouble right after his wonderful performance.

"Taehyung we-"

"Hey, is that any way to speak to your hyung?" He whispered, his eyes staring into mine. I gulped and chuckled with a smirk, looking away for a moment before looking right back into his eyes with matching intensity.

"Hyung, we'll get in trouble if someone walks in." I told him, looking at the door handle with a look of worry only slightly evident. He shook his head with a deep chuckle, holding up a pair of keys in my field of vision before closing the space between us. I felt the soft lips I'm so used to, feeling them move gently against mine. His arms tightened and mine did as well, our faces moving apart but the embrace holding.

"I'm proud of you, hyung." I whispered, knowing that that's what he wanted to hear. He smiled largely, bringing his lips to mine once more for a quick peck.

"Thank you. That's what I was hoping for the entire time I was up there." He said equally as quiet, our hushed voices sounding in the empty room as though someone may hear. We stood with each other in an embrace, knowing that this is the only place we want to be. In each other's arms.
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Oof, that was bad and took soooooo long to get out. Its been a while, haha. Sorry for the crap story after so long of nothing <3