Work Text:
Seokjin blows out the smoke, resting the back of his head on the couch cushion, legs spread over Hoseok’s carpet.
He wasn’t going to come tonight, but his best friend texted the three magic little words that will always get him to take the subway and walk for ten minutes on a Saturday night after work; I have pot. Seokjin’s not proud of; he’s almost 30, has a steady (even if boring) job and is currently on the last stages of his masters’ thesis. He’s too old for recreational drug use, but. He had such a hard week, and Hoseok always has the best stuff. Seokjin will leave his worries for judgment day, if that’s real. If it isn’t, well. Life is now and all of that crap…YOLO? Fuck, he has no idea. Seokjin chuckles to himself. Alright. Maybe he’s high enough.
“Hyung, can you pass me the blunt?” Jungkook asks, voice small. He’s sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, drowning in large gray sweatpants and a matching sweater. His long hair is trapped in a low ponytail, and his eyes are a bit red. Jungkook looks down at Seokjin with expectancy, lips parted, forehead sweaty. “Please.”
Seokjin hums, lifting his arm to give Hoseok’s brother the weed. This is maybe the third or fourth time Jungkook has been invited to their not-so-legal hangouts. The first time, Seokjin was kind of surprised. Somehow, he had completely forgotten that 1) Hoseok had an adult brother and 2) Hoseok’s adult brother was living in Seoul. Not with him, but closer to his University. Sosang. Seokjin remembers being impressed by that achievement, especially after he learned Jungkook has a scholarship.
After the younger man blows out the smoke, he offers it to his brother, sprawled on the armchair next to them, but Hoseok shakes his head, scrunching his nose. His eyes are much redder than Jungkook’s. His cheeks are puffed and red and he looks very sleepy. Seokjin chuckles; Hoba has never been very resistant to intoxicants. A few hints and he’s down (or flying. Depends on one’s point of view). Hoseok sighs, pouting. His eyes are fixed on his brother.
“I think I’m gonna go to bed.”
“Already?” Seokjin exclaims, sitting up straight. “You made me come all the way here and you’re going to bed at 10pm?”
Hoseok waves him off, standing up (with a lot of difficulty) from his chair. He smiles dumbly at him and bows an almost full 90 degrees. “I’m sorry, hyung, please, forgive me.”
“You’re a dick, so I’m not forgiving you. Pay for my taxi ride back and I’ll consider.”
“You don’t have to go,” Hoseok mutters, laughing. He points at Jungkook. “My brother can stay with you. For some fucking reason, he’s really tolerate to these stuff, which is totally unfair since I’m the oldest, but whatever, it’s fine.”
Seokjin hesitates. He doesn’t really know Jungkook that well. Sure, they have had plenty of conversations in the times Seokjin’s come over, and he’s funny and smart, but they are not friends. In fact, Seokjin thinks they have never been alone. Hoseok was always there, too. Wouldn’t it be too awkward?
“Can’t believe you’re jealous because I can handle more weed than you,” Jungkook scoffs and Seokjin smells the smoke before it reaches the air in front of him. He turns his head to look at Jungkook again, but the younger man’s eyes are on his brother. There’s a smile playing on his lips. “Go on, old man, go to bed. I’ll take care of your friend for you, and you can pay for his taxi ride and my lunch tomorrow.”
“Why am I getting punished for going to bed?” Hoseok whines, throwing a pillow on presumably Jungkook, but since both he and Seokjin are on the same spot, just at different heights, it lands right on Seokjin’s face. The older man sighs, but it didn’t hurt. He throws the pillow back at Hoseok, who simply laughs. He doesn’t even apologize! The audacity. “My credit card is in my wallet on the kitchen counter. If even a single won that is not destined for a cab ride tonight or a very cheap lunch tomorrow, I will have both of your heads for dinner.”
Hoseok is pointing his finger while he says that. He walks away after his little speech, closing the door to his bedroom only ten seconds later. Seokjin hears it as he turns the key to lock it.
“That’s very unlike him,” he comments slowly, sliding his body to lean against the now empty armchair instead, believing it to be kind of rude not to be looking at each other now that they are alone. Jungkook has the blunt between his lips, nodding his head as he sucks. “He even locked the door.”
“Probably to jack off,” Jungkook says simply. Seokjin blinks. Jungkook sighs, shrugging as he leans forward to offer what’s left of the blunt to Seokjin. “Hyung has been doing that a lot lately. The walls are sadly very thin.”
Seokjin pulls, feeling it go down his throat. He holds it in for a moment before blowing it out. There’s really only one pull left on this one, so he takes it. Hoseok rolled too many. Two are left now, sitting prettily on his beige center table. Seokjin finishes it off and kills the fire on the ashtray.
“The walls are thin?” He wonders. “I thought you didn’t live here.”
“I don’t.” Jungkook changes positions, now hugging his legs, chin resting on his knees. His bangs look really cute. Particularly now, when his cheeks are puffed and his eyes are glossy. Seokjin imagines he doesn’t look much different. He feels a weird urge for his arm to be big enough so his hand can reach Jungkook’s cheek and pinch it. That thought makes him giggle. And even if the thought wasn’t shared, Jungkook giggles, too. Ah, marijuana. “But I stay here a lot. It’s much more comfortable than that cubicle I call an apartment. It doesn’t even fit a stove, Seokjin-ssi.”
“Why are you so formal with me?” Seokjin sighs, taking one of the two remaining blunts and lighting it up. He pulls in the smoke. Holds. “I’m your brother’s best friend and we’ve smoked pot five times together now. I think the hyung is more than warranted.”
Jungkook accepts the joint from Seokjin, blinking lazily at him. He doesn’t divert his eyes as he pulls in the smoke into his lungs, blowing it after a few seconds. Instead of giving it back to Seokjin right away, Jungkook wraps it between his lips again, cheeks becoming hollow. Before blowing it out, he lowers his hand, tilting his head. It doesn’t go unnoticed to Seokjin that he hasn’t answered his request because the air has turned a little awkward.
“Are you alright?” Seokjin questions, licking his lips. “Went silent all of a sudden.”
“Would you be down for shotgunning?”
Seokjin freezes. “Sorry?”
“You heard me.” Jungkook takes the blunt to between his lips again. He holds in the smoke for a while. After he blows it out, a smirk tugs at the right corner of his mouth. Jungkook hasn’t taken his eyes off Seokjin for a single second since he placed his back against the armchair. The wild thought that Jungkook was looking at him even when he was right under him crosses Seokjin’s weed-filled brain. “I want to try shotgunning. Most of my friends are really boring about weed, and the ones that aren’t, don’t really interest me enough to hookup with. So. Do you want to?”
“Shotgunning doesn’t necessarily mean you’re gonna make out afterwards,” Seokjin reasons, not even knowing how the rational part of his brain is working, and totally not sure answering it at all is even the rational part of his brain. He takes a beat. “You want to hookup with me?”
Jungkook chews on his bottom lip, blunt trapped between his thumb and index finger, arm supported by his own knee. A few more seconds like this and Hoseok’s carpet will get dirty. Or burn. Either way, Jungkook doesn’t seem to care. Seokjin finds it hard to care as well because now he’s thinking about Jungkook straddling his lap and blowing smoke into his open mouth. Which. Isn’t a thought he should be having, of course, but since he’s high and there’s no one inside his mind, is a thought that thrills him quite a lot, and definitely not something that hasn’t occurred to him before.
Not the shotgunning part, in specific. The kissing Jungkook part.
It’s wrong. But Seokjin is as gay as they come and the night he met Jungkook, right here in this living room, about four months ago, the younger man was wearing pants (only pants). Eating spicy ramen on the kitchen counter, with red lips and long curly hair, smiling sweetly at him as soon as Hoseok introduced them. And Seokjin’s mind was just- so hard to fight. The thoughts in it. He tried to keep his cool, and he managed to, somehow, and then, the next time he saw Jungkook, he was wearing a white t-shirt that hugged him in all the most damning places, and Seokjin tried to keep his cool again, and somehow, he managed to. Now that he thinks about it, tonight is the most dressed Seokjin has ever seen the man.
“Are you alright?” Jungkook asks, giggling. He finally offers him the blunt. Seokjin, kind of robotically, takes it. “You went dead silent. Did I freak you out?”
“No, it’s just—” Seokjin gives himself time to come up with a good enough answer as he pulls in the smoke. Surprisingly, he coughs around it. He can’t even remember the last time he did that.
Jungkook stands up from his spot on the couch and drops to his knees next to him, tapping Seokjin’s back lightly. His other hand rests on Seokjin’s covered knee.
“Should I get you some water?” The younger man suggests, and Seokjin can’t decide if he sounds concerned or amused. Maybe both. He’s just not sure if it’s the weed, or Jungkook’s naturally like this. Come to think of it, he has barely talked to Jungkook when they weren’t both intoxicated. Would they be even more awkward while completely sober? Or is all the awkwardness just in Seokjin’s head? “Seokjin-hyung.”
“There you go,” he manages to say after a cough. “You called me hyung.”
“You told me to.”
“I know.” Seokjin looks at him, trying to decide if this proximity is weird. Jungkook’s so close, with his body leaned toward him, his face just a few centimeters away. The entire room smells like pot. With the windows closed so the neighbors won’t smell it, the ceiling fan does what it can to dissipate it and help with the heat, but it’s not enough, Seokjin thinks. He suddenly feels a bit lightheaded. Maybe he needs the wind blowing on his face. Or a slap against his cheek. He takes a deep breath. “We can’t.”
Jungkook takes the weed from him and takes another drag. And even if Seokjin was, somehow, expecting it, it still catches him a bit by surprise when Jungkook blows the smoke on his face. He doesn’t cough this time, just— stares. At the hard lines of the younger man’s jaw and his big brown eyes, red all around. He looks older than Seokjin knows he is. At least like this; with a weed blunt between his fingers and determination in his eyes.
“Hoseok-hyung doesn’t care about shit like that,” Jungkook mutters, almost scornily so. “You and I both know that.”
“Do we?” Seokjin can’t take his eyes off him. “I mean, I didn’t know you liked men. Hoseok never mentioned it. Of course, it’s none of my business or anything, but yeah. I didn’t know. So I couldn’t know he would not care if you and I— shotgunned.”
Jungkook sits back on his heels, gulping down.
“I never kissed a boy before.”
Oh.
“Oh?” The word pops out. Seokjin licks over his lower lip. “But you— you are…”
“Queer?” Jungkook supplies. “Yeah. I think so. I’m a bit confused. So I wanted to try and see what it feels like.”
Seokjin blinks. He’s not too high to mistake this for a dream.
“And you want to try by… shotgunning with me, your brother’s best friend, while we are both high?”
“I’m not insanely high,” Jungkook corrects. “Just enough to feel like flying. What about you?”
“I’m chill. And a bit hungry.” Seokjin shifts a bit so his body is leaning directly in Jungkook’s direction. “For more than one thing.”
Jungkook takes another drag in the midst of a smile.
“That’s the spirit I was looking for. And yes, I do wanna try this with my brother’s best friend because you are extremely hot and you know it.”
Seokjin can’t disagree, so he shrugs, which makes Jungkook laugh wholeheartedly, coughing as he blows out the smoke. Seokjin makes a motion to tap on his back too, but the younger man waves him off for the second time that night.
“I’m fine, I just— really want to blow some of this into your mouth.” Jungkook scratches his cheek. “Can we not make this complicated? We don’t even have to tell hyung if you really think he’d have a problem with it. Or we can blame it on the weed.”
“That’s not how weed works.”
“Seokjin-ah,” Jungkook sighs. The drop on any sort of honorific is so sudden it drives electricity down Seokjin’s spine, and it must show on his face because Jungkook’s smile only grows. “Can I, please, straddle your lap? It will make shotgunning easier.”
Seokjin laughs, body light, mind refusing to worry.
“I haven’t said yes.”
Jungkook takes a breath.
“So it’s no, then?”
Maybe, if Seokjin wasn’t feeling so good, or Jungkook wasn’t so hot, or Hoseok wasn’t (normally) so chill, or the idea of having smoke blown into his mouth by a muscular long-haired, tattooed-filled man didn’t sound so sexy, it would be a no.
Unfortunately, Seokjin’s nothing but a very homosexual pothead. So, without any further thought, he mutters:
“Come here.”
Jungkook doesn’t need to be asked twice, clearly. He moves fast, crawling the rest of the way and swinging one of his legs over Seokjin’s lap, sitting down on his thighs. He looks at him with drowsy eyes, lips parted. Seokjin doesn’t know if he can touch him, but he seems to have lost his ability to speak somewhere in the past 15 seconds, so he just stares back, eyes just as lazy, the palm of his hands pressing down on the carpet. Jungkook looks down at Seokjin’s lips and huffs through his nose. It is unclear if it’s a scoff or an exhale.
“Have you ever done this before?” Jungkook whispers. The hand that’s holding the blunt moves a little closer to his lips, but he doesn’t take a drag yet. “Answer me.”
“Kissed a boy, shotgunned, had a best friend’s brother on my lap?” Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “You need to be more specific.”
Jungkook finds that thoroughly amusing because he laughs. Hard. He tilts his head forward and rests his forehead on Seokjin’s. They have never been this close. They probably shouldn’t be this close. Would Hoseok freak out if he left his bedroom right now? Would he scream and ask what the fuck are they doing? Or would he just stand there awkwardly, not saying anything and go back to his room, his bed, and try to forget the sight he’s just seen? Both things sound possible, and both things make Seokjin want to laugh, so he does, one hand now resting on the small of Jungkook’s back.
Once they both have calmed down, Seokjin cleans a tear on the side of Jungkook’s eye and moves his hand to the younger man’s thigh.
“Yes to the first two, no to the last,” he answers. Jungkook’s ears perk up at that, which is amusing to Seokjin. Is he surprised by the fact he’s kissed boys or that he’s blown smoke into someone’s mouth before? Both? “You’re gonna burn your brother’s carpet if you don’t take that drag.”
Jungkook hums and, without taking his eyes off Seokjin, puts the blunt between his lips and sucks, hallowing his cheeks. He closes his mouth immediately, moving his head down, his free hand now on Seokjin’s nape. Jungkook keeps looking at him, silently asking for Seokjin to open his lips. The older man does, feeling his heart pulse in his ears. Jungkook comes even closer and opens his mouth, their lips brush against one another as the smoke is blown into Seokjin’s throat. He swallows it, feeling insane and lightheaded.
There’s not much Seokjin knows about Jungkook, but he’s learning a few tonight. First; he’s bold. Second; he wants to find out if he’s into guys. Third; the weight of his butt against Seokjin’s thighs feels nice. Fourth; he knows how to smoke weed. Fifth; he’s very good at shotgunning. Sixth; he doesn’t like to waste time. Seventh; he’s an inebriating kisser.
Seokjin has barely closed his eyes when the younger man locks their lips together, kiss searing and bruising from the get go. Jungkook holds his face with the hand that holds the joint and intertwines his fingers on Seokjin’s hair with the other, pulling him closer. His mouth tastes like weed and ment, which is a surprising combo. Seokjin rolls his tongue against Jungkook’s, enjoying the low, guttural sound that rises up from the man’s throat at that. Both his hands find themselves on Jungkook’s waist, head spinning with the intensity of the kiss and how well Jungkook controls it.
It’s been a while since the last time Seokjin has kissed a boy. He had almost forgotten what it felt like; the desperation, the roughness, the anguishness. Jungkook isn’t even trying to be delicate, and Seokjin likes that. He pulls at Jungkook’s sweater, breaking the kiss only for a moment to breathe. Two seconds. That’s all he gets before their lips lock again. Faintly, Seokjin thinks of the blunt in between Jungkook’s fingers and how easily it can burn him, the armchair or the carpet, but it doesn’t feel really important right now. He can just buy Hoseok a new carpet or armchair. Does Seokjin have money for that?
Jungkook breaks the kiss again and when he doesn’t come back for a third time, Seokjin blinks his eyes open, watching as the younger man takes another drag of the dying blunt and tosses it on the ashtray behind them on the center table. He holds the smoke inside and places both his hands on Seokjin’s cheeks. It’s not necessary to silently ask anything of him now. Seokjin parts his lips and accepts the poison, swallowing it with another deep kiss.
The air feels thick, hot. Seokjin’s hands find themselves on Jungkook’s perky little butt now, trying to bring their bodies closer. He feels so light, so heavy. Jungkook’s covered chest flushes against his as his tongue, and his teeth, and his lips, drown Seokjin in something he didn’t even know he could feel. Not like this. Not in his best friend’s house, stoned, with said best friend’s younger brother. Not that he cares. It simply feels too good. Seokjin grabs Jungkook’s butt with intent, rubbing their bodies together as the kiss turns more wet, full of teeth and desperation. Jungkook moans against his lips, giggling only a moment later because their teeth clash. Seokjin giggles too, closing his eyes as Jungkook’s lips wrap themselves on his neck, sucking lightly. Will it leave a mark? How would Seokjin explain that?
It doesn’t matter. It feels too good. Seokjin exhales, his body responding to the stimulation quickly. Jungkook pulls at his hair, licking a stripe from Seokjin’s neck to his lower lip, kissing him again. It’s a bit nasty. The only sounds Seokjin can hear come from the ceiling fan and the wetness of their kiss, the tiny moans that escape their lips, the not-so-innocent rubbing of their lower body parts. It’s loud, all of it, and Seokjin thinks that, if his best friend was still awake, he would be able to hear them. That, shamelessly, only thrills him more.
“You like it, yeah?” Seokjin whispers once they break apart, eyes on Jungkook’s. The boy looks like a mess. The low ponytail is gone, his lips are swollen and red, as are his eyes and his cheeks. He stares at Seokjin in heavy breathing, hands still on his hair. “I guess you have your answer.”
Jungkook stares at him some more. If Seokjin wasn’t so high and so light and so happy, maybe he would have felt a little shy about it. Instead, he holds the stare, smiling stupidly at the man sitting on his lap with a semi outlined on his sweatpants.
“I don’t know…” Jungkook trails off. “I think I need a little more to be sure.”
They both laugh. Seokjin kisses him again, a hand on his hair and the other on his waist. At the back of his mind, Seokjin wonders if Jungkook’s mouth usually tastes like ment, or if he coincidently had some before smoking with them. Not-so-much at the back of his mind, Seokjin wonders what it would feel like to kiss Jungkook when neither of them are high and Jungkook doesn’t have the I want to experiment excuse hanging from his lips. At the forefront of his mind, Seokjin wonders if Hoseok would hate it if he and his younger brother were to occasionally makeout and possibly- do more.
He breaks the kiss.
“You’re self-conscious now, aren’t you?” Jungkook asks, reading right through him as if they are not basically strangers. He chuckles when Seokjin doesn’t reply, moving out of his lap. Jungkook lights up the last joint and sits by Seokjin’s side despite the fact there’s no armchair for him to rest his back against. He takes a drag and blows it out. “I’m hard.”
“I know.” Seokjin doesn’t look despite the fact he really wants to. “I am, too.”
Jungkook glances down. “Yeah. I can see that.”
“Give me that,” Seokjin asks in the midst of a chuckle. Jungkook passes him the weed. After taking a drag, Seokjin turns to his side and blows it on Jungkook’s face. The younger man coughs a little, slapping his shoulder lightly. “That was for earlier.”
“Damn, what’s your star sign?”
“I don’t believe in stuff like that.”
“Of course you don’t.”
They silently finish the last blunt. Seokjin doesn’t know if he can stand up and go home right now, so he’s not going to. He gets a little more comfortable, resting his head on the chair and closing his eyes.
“Are you gonna take a nap, Seokjin-ah?”
“Don’t be a brat, call me hyung.” Seokjin blinks, finding Jungkook looking at him intently, cheeks redder than ever. “But not when we do this, though. I think that would be weird.”
Jungkook smirks. “You wanna do this again?”
“You don’t?” Seokjin places a hand on Jungkook’s thigh. “Did you lie earlier? Was this really the first time you kissed a boy?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook confirms. “I wasn’t lying.”
Seokjin smiles a little. “So, what’s the verdict?”
“I like kissing boys.” Jungkook puts his hand over Seokjin’s on his thigh and intertwines their fingers. “I like kissing you.”
“Good.” Bad, bad, bad. Seokjin’s a horrible friend. “I like kissing you, too.”
It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep after that, fingers still intertwined with Jungkook’s on top of his thigh. When Seokjin wakes up, just as the sun has started to rise, he’s alone. He blinks, looking around the quiet room. There’s a tiny paper next to the ashtray filled with cigarette and weed butts. He takes it, chuckling as he reads it over and over again.
There’s another thing I want to blow next time. I’m experimenting, hyung…
Seokjin bites down his lip, shoving the note down the pocket of his jeans as he stands up to leave, already making a mental list of pros and cons on the entire situation.
Before he gets home, the pros have already won.