Taekooked × Oneshots

💜 [NEW ] I could fall or I could fly

Taehyung's in a club; oddly enough, he's not one to waste his Saturday nights in a grimy, contrast expensive-looking bar more than a few blocks away from his apartment in the university. Namjoon says it's for experience. Taehyung's never been in one before, so why the hell not now?

"Having fun, Tae?" Namjoon questions, already with his fifth bottle of whisky. Taehyung doesn't drink anymore, not after that incident when they were freshman; got his lightweight ass trashed by some mixture of soft drink and an alcohol, it wasn't even the strongest brand of liquor. So yeah, he's playing on the safe side, no drinks tonight; just plain old sitting-there-like-a-rock kind of friend, the party-pooper, what Yoongi calls him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the bar's DJ calls. "Ooh, it's starting!" Namjoon excitedly hops off his seat to get a better view of the stage. Taehyung's curious as well, what would be tonight's entertainment? "Help me welcome with a round of applause, Heaven!"

A stripper. A goddamn stripper is on stage. Taehyung's eyes couldn't be any wider. "Hyung, what the hell." He turns to a grinning Namjoon and Yoongi. "You know about... this, don't you?" Yoongi scoffs, downing another shot of tequila before holding up the empty glass on to Taehyung's face with a provocative finger pointing at him, "Kim Taehyung," he says, words are already jumbled, "either you're planning to be a priest or die a virgin, this is what kids our age pay to see." Not a virgin, Taehyung wants to retaliate but then that would only lead to more questions, so he shuts his mouth.

"Come on, man, live a little." Namjoon throws a long arm around the boy who caresses the bridge of his nose frustratingly. He groans, already wanting to be cocooned in his bed. It's a little past 10 o'clock in the evening, way past his bedtime.

"One time, hyungs." He holds up a finger, one finger, to elaborate that this setup would be a one-time thing only. Yoongi and Namjoon cheers to that. What have I gotten myself into? "I'm going to get a drink." Taehyung sluggishly pulls himself up towards the drinks counter. If he's going to force himself to enjoy a stripper show, might as well get drunk. That is what kids his age pay to see, right?

"That's the spirit, Tae. Bottoms up!" His friends encourage him. They're not bad examples, per se, they just... have their own agenda of how to live a life. Namjoon's a scholar, planning on getting a degree in Law. Meanwhile, Yoongi's a Music major, wanting to get into an entertainment company before they graduate two or three years from now. They're good kids, just living life to the fullest it can offer.

The music starts playing, some pop song that Taehyung's heard over the radio a couple of times. He's into RnB and Jazz, not that trashy genre. All eyes are glued to the stage.

The dancer (Heaven was it?) moves sensually to the beat. He's thick, Taehyung can attest to that. Sculpted body visible through the sheer fabric he's wearing; and he calls that a shirt. Biceps bulging through the fishnet sleeves it comes with. And those thighs, God, white, meaty thighs look spectacular in those overly-ripped skinny jeans; he wonders what would it be like to mark them up.

Oh, Taehyung's already starting to imagine things he shouldn't be imagining, shouldn't be even thinking in the first place. What's in this drink, anyway?

Now, Taehyung thinks Heaven suits him best. The way he moves, so graceful, coordinated, all very natural. Taehyung wonders how many times he's practiced this routine to perfect it. And if Taehyung isn't imagining things (he's just a tiny bit tipsy), Heaven made eye contact with him. Behind that mask, something lies deeper, darker. If only he could take of that goddamn bunny mask similar to Ariana Grande's; he bets those eyes are alluring. They sparkle on stage like they were made for them to be there. Shining brighter than the spotlights. Before Taehyung could even blink, the show was over. Heaven's already retreating to the back of the stage.