It Got Me Feeling A Lot Of Things At Once - Tumblr Posts

oh my im already enjoying this and we just started 😩 fuck fuck can i say the smut was absolutely hot??

the suggestive small comments, the lingering stares between him and jk, always noticing how he gives a certain look when he feels uncomfortable etc, is cute. like hes memorised every reaction of his. the hand holding was super cuteeee!!

"The tongue wiggles a familiar metal hoop pierced through a plush bottom lip as his cock pulses for a final time." LISTEN this was the hottest thing ive read of solo masturbation, just imagining BIG dick tae just looking sexy af all worked up and even hotter for his imagination to go onto JK's lip piercing is.... so fucking hot

keep singing this lie (1) | kth + jjk

Black Swan, an up-and-coming alternative metal rock band, is going on their first official tour. Jungkook looks forward to proving himself in a cutthroat industry; Taehyung looks forward to the groupies. Neither of them expects to find the comfort their hearts truly desire in one another.

↳ pairing: drummer!taehyung x singer!jungkook

↳ rating/genre: BTS | 18+ | rock band au | bandmates to lovers | secret relationship | smut | angst | fluff

↳ wc/date: 7k | April 2023

↳ warnings: tae has sex with a female oc | Big Dick Tae (as usual) | masturbation | a lil bit of homophobia that's subtle, not overt | the way tae talks about girls/sex is kinda gross and very dudebro | drunk sex (consensual)

↳ notes: i'm really excited to post this. i kinda wrote it in a whirlwind of crazy taekook brain rot so pls forgive me for any errors. I'll probably go back and edit it later once my brain is more ~relaxed

↳ main masterlist / series masterlist

↳ what was jai listening to? the series playlist

✨ want to be added to the series taglist? send me an ask or reply to this post ✨

“Yes, yes, yes, f-f-fuck, V, oh my godddd.” 

Taehyung uses his forearm to swipe his bangs away from his forehead. Humidity tends to turn his hair fluffy, and his hotel room has his skin burning like a sauna. A bead of sweat careens down the side of his face. The sensation of the hot moisture gliding down his neck would usually make him cringe, but he’s too focused on the girl beneath him to care about how unfortunate it is that humans must sweat. 

The girl’s name had been on the tip of his tongue all night, but tequila shots and the press of her tongue against his shoved her name deeper down his throat. Not that it matters if he can’t remember it. Taehyung isn’t the type to moan girls’ names during sex. He much prefers hearing his own name come from theirs. 

Well, not his actual name. 

Teeth digging into the inside of his cheek to hold back a grunt, Taehyung flexes his fingers to grab the flesh of the girl’s hips with more force as she moans, “Harder, harder, harder,” because he’s nothing but a people-pleaser. All great performers are.

There’s something selfish about the selflessness of wanting to please others. Perhaps it’s born from the pride that feeds Taehyung’s ego as the girl scrambles to hold onto the bed each time he pitches her forward with a snap of his hips. Numerous braids create intricate patterns on the bed sheets around her head, each adorned with little gold cuffs that catch in the light. Her bronze skin glows from the furnace their bodies have made out of the room. Taehyung likes how her thighs jiggle as his hips smack into her, likes how she squeezes her tits and looks up at him with eyes so deep he weighs the pros and cons of losing himself in them. 

She has a pillow beneath her hips to raise them up, helping to meet Taehyung’s hips as he kneels between her thighs. And, god, she’s so tight and warm around his cock. He drags his nails down her thighs until he reaches her knees. Then, cupping them from the back, he adjusts her legs to rest against his shoulders as he leans down slightly. Nothing in his head but heat and the sweet sound of skin slapping together. She’s so wet Taehyung’s cock glistens every time he pulls out of her. And the sound her pussy makes as he slides back in? Divine. 

“Right there, please, V. There, please, please.” She throws her head back, and Taehyung nearly folds her in half to latch his lips against the vulnerable skin of her throat. 

“Yeah?” His voice is breathy and hoarse from screaming during the show. “You like when I-” 

“Taehyung, open the fucking door!” 

His hips stutter, losing their rhythm as loud banging vibrates through the hotel room’s door. 

“Shit,” Taehyung groans into the crook of the girl’s neck. His thrusts turn into slow but deep grinding, hips swiveling in a circle. It might not be pound town, but the girl is still enjoying herself if the way she’s clawing the shit out of his back means anything. “Fuck off, Jeon!” 

“No! It’s three in the fucking morning, and I want to go the fuck to bed!”

Taehyung pulls back to meet the girl’s eyes. The seductive look is gone; in its place, something so soft that he feels like he’s intruding on her privacy with such emotions on display. He doesn’t deserve a look like that, whatever it means. Affection, perhaps. Maybe gentle amusement? It’s not the irritation he’d expected. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs. He eases her legs down and pulls out slowly and delicately. She’ll be sore tomorrow, he’s sure. 

The girl leans on her elbows and watches Taehyung search for his underwear. Clothes are strewn all over the room. They’re damp with sweat and wrinkled from fingers twisting into the fabric. 

“It’s okay,” she insists with a bright smile. “I was enjoying it, but he doesn’t sound very happy…” 

“Come on, Tae!” 

With a groan, Taehyung rips off the empty condom and uses his free hand to pull on his briefs. On the way to the door, he throws the condom into the trash. 

Despite having a key to the room, the chain lock prevents Jungkook from opening the door all the way. It was purposeful, of course. Taehyung never went to college, but he has enough sense to know a sock on the door won't stop his bandmate from barging into the room. Judging by how wide Jungkook’s eyes are, the chain lock allows him to peer into the room just enough to see the girl slowly peel herself off the bed to find her clothes. 

“I hate you,” Taehyung says before slamming the door in his face. Closing the door is necessary to undo the lock, but the force with which he closes it isn’t. 

“Jin said we have to be up at seven which means we only have four hours to sleep...” When the door swings open, Jungkook’s eyes briefly drop to Taehyung’s crotch. His dick strains against the tight fabric of his briefs. The outline is prominent because the fabric is wet from precum, and Taehyung just had his dick in the creamiest pussy he’s ever experienced, and Jungkook had to ruin it. 

Jungkook’s tongue slips across his bottom lip, eventually stopping to wiggle at his piercing. It’s a nervous habit Taehyung finds rather endearing. Well, whenever he doesn’t have a case of blue balls. 

“Could’ve waited ‘til I finished,” Taehyung grumbles. 

He quickly lifts his eyes to Taehyung’s face. Furrowed eyebrows make his expression look dark. “What?” 

“Oh fuck off and get in here.” 

Taehyung ushers him in with a fervent wave of his arm. He keeps the door open. At three in the morning, no one is around to see him in his half-naked glory. And even if someone was in the hall, they’d be getting a great view of Big Dick Kim Taehyung, free of charge. 

No shame in the game, right? 

Taehyung thinks as much as he turns to face the room again. It’s a ridiculous sight he should probably feel bad about, but he can’t find it in him to care. Jungkook looks unbelievably uncomfortable. Taehyung can tell because his tongue is still shoved in the corner of his mouth, and he’s tugging down the sleeves of his black, long-sleeve shirt. His pretty doe eyes lock onto the half-dressed girl. 

“Um, Kookie, wow, hi. I’m so sorry, I’ll just…” The girl tucks one of her braids behind her ear. She’s wearing an oversized Black Swan graphic tee that falls at the middle of her thighs. In her hands are her bra and jean shorts. 

The Black Swan t-shirt is one Taehyung designed himself, black cotton with splotches of red and white to create an abstract painting of four men with wings. "You Never Walk Alone," the song that made them... not famous, but something, is written in Jimin’s swooping handwriting at the bottom. Printed on the back, bold and red, is “Black Swan” above a list of tour dates and venues. Taehyung was proud of how their merch turned out, especially considering Seokjin’s cousin did it all for them at a discounted rate. But seeing the shirt on a fan makes him feel warm all over. 

And maybe also the alcohol. 

“It’s okay!” Jungkook rushes to convince the girl and hopefully squash her awkwardness. “It’s nice to meet you…” 

“Imani.” She looks like she’s going to pass out. Taehyung can’t understand how talking to a musician is scarier than fucking one. 

“Imani.” Jungkook’s smile makes his nose crinkle, and Taehyung is terribly aware that he’s standing in his underwear, hard as a rock. “Did you like the show?” 

Jungkook subconsciously mimics her stance, tucking a strand of his unruly hair behind his ear. The mullet looks good on him; Taehyung is glad he didn’t let Jimin cut it before the tour. 

Imani’s dark eyes flit between the men like she can’t decide who to stare at first. Taehyung notices that Jungkook makes a point of looking anywhere but at the two of them directly. 

With a sigh, Taehyung runs his hand over his face and wills his boner to go down. He’d had so much to drink it’s a miracle he even managed to get hard in the first place. His dick is starting to throb, forcing itself into the front of Taehyung’s mind until all he can think about is how fucking warm and tight- 

A throat clears, and the sound forces Taehyung back to reality. Jungkook is squatting in front of his suitcase, likely searching for pajamas. Whatever praise Imani had to give about the show is lost to him, though he's sure it was positive. Why else would she let him fuck her?

Turning to Imani, who has been far more patient than he deserves, Taehyung offers her a small smile. “Need me to get you an Uber?” 

She nods, shyly looking up at Taehyung through her eyelashes like she didn’t just beg for his cock not even five minutes ago. She’s cute. Taehyung thinks no one can really blame him for bringing her to his hotel room once he got tired of the afterparty. The afterparty hadn’t even been for them. The headlining band is well-known enough to be an opener for one of the main stages at Spine Breaker Fest. Black Swan was merely invited to the headliner’s pre-festival concert because they stopped in the same town on their own tour leading up to the festival. 

It’s whatever. Taehyung knows these things take time. Fame and fortune can’t just fall into their laps. They’ve worked hard, though. Especially Jungkook. 

Taehyung ignores the side-eyed look Jungkook gives him when he lets Imani dig her fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck as she licks into his mouth. She tastes like strawberry-flavored vodka, and it makes Taehyung’s teeth ache. He never lets groupies kiss him. 

“Sorry about…” Taehyung, not so subtly, nods in his bandmate’s direction. 

Imani covers her pretty face with one hand, using her other to squeeze Taehyung’s bicep. It hurts. He’s sore from performing four nights in a row but doesn't tell her to let go. “It’s okay,” she giggles. “It was really nice hanging out with you, V.” 

I’d love to do it again. She doesn’t have to say it out loud; everyone in the room knows. 

Taehyung gives her ass a squeeze when she begins her walk of shame down the hall. Maybe if the band returns to her town, he can add Imani’s to the list of couches they can crash on. 

With the door closed, Taehyung reaches into his briefs to adjust his dick. He’s still just as hard as when he was balls deep inside the pretty young thing he so rudely had to turn away. All because of a starry-eyed motherfucker who needs to sleep.

“You let the girls you fuck call you by your stage name?” The question doesn't feel accusatory, but Taehyung swears it sounds like Jungkook is offended. By what, he has no idea. Jungkook isn’t looking at him when he speaks. Instead, his eyes stare at the queen-size bed they’re supposed to share tonight. The same bed Taehyung was just fucking a groupie on. 

Taehyung retracts his hand from his underwear and shrugs. “They like it. Adds to the feeling of fucking someone famous or whatever.” 

“Right. Because we’re so famous, we’re staying at a Holiday Inn, which we consider a luxury compared to our usual Motel 6.” 

With a snort, Taehyung swipes a pair of pajama pants from Jungkook’s open suitcase and shuffles toward the bathroom, phone in hand. The younger man’s not wrong; this Holiday Inn is nicer than the motels they typically book. The pay for this gig is one of the highest they’ve gotten. Splurging seemed justified. 

“I’m gonna…” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder to point toward the bathroom. Now that Imani is gone, he has a chance to really look at Jungkook. The waves of his mullet are shiny from the curl mousse he uses, meaning he took a shower next door in Jimin and Seokjin’s room. 

Taehyung fidgets and feels the need to cover himself with the pants he’s holding, but he wills himself to stand still. It’s not that big of a deal. He and Jungkook have seen each other naked plenty of times. It comes with the territory of being a band with no money; privacy is a luxury they typically can’t afford. Seeing each other’s soft dicks in quick flashes between changing clothes is normal. 

Walking around with a boner in front of his friend feels different, though. Even if Taehyung isn't naked. 

“Gonna?” Jungkook still doesn’t look at Taehyung’s face when he speaks.  

“Shower, dude. I fucking stink like vodka and sweat. And pussy, though I don’t mind that.” 

“Right.” Jungkook gives Taehyung a look he can’t quite read, but it disappears almost immediately as a goofy smile puffs up his cheeks. “Have fun trying to piss with that thing.” 

“Fuckface!” Taehyung flips Jungkook off right as the other man shoots him with finger guns. “And stop looking at the bed like that. We only fucked on top of the comforter, and you didn’t even give me a chance to bust a nut. Just take it off.” 

Jungkook makes a gagging sound as Taehyung slams the bathroom door shut. 

The chuckle in Taehyung’s throat immediately dies when he’s alone in the bathroom. The lighting is too bright, electric white, and strong enough to highlight every pore, wrinkle, and imperfection on Taehyung’s face when he confronts himself in the mirror. It’s brief; he’s not interested in lingering on the dark circles beneath his bloodshot eyes. Late nights downing liquid poison and early mornings marching to the tune of Seokjin’s nagging can put a man into an early grave if he’s not careful. 

Good thing Taehyung is always careful. 

Tonight he’s careful to keep quiet as he fists himself in the shower, thankful that the water pressure is intense enough for the sound of the shower to drown out any wayward moans he might let out. Hotel body wash and his calloused hands are nothing compared to how good pussy feels, but Taehyung is no stranger to jacking off under the pressure of limited time. Maybe musicians who are actual celebrities have time for a hot body in between shows, but the members of Black Swan work themselves into the ground to score gigs and promote themselves. Pussy can’t be a priority over money. Just the way shit goes. 

“Fuck,” Taehyung hisses through a half-bitten bottom lip. He tightens his grip around the head of his cock, twisting a few times before gliding his palm against the tip. 

When he closes his eyes and tilts his head back, he imagines how good it would have felt to come all over Imani’s tits. They were so full and perky, nipples a dusty brown. Or maybe she’d let him come on her face. Taehyung groans, picking up the pace of his hand. He lightly thrusts into his fist at the thought of Imani’s plump lips slicked up with his come. How she might lick her mouth clean. How he could lick her clean.  

The pressure in his gut is tight, and it burns, his cock pulsing a warning, and the divine image of Imani’s lips morphs into someone else’s. 

“Shit, shit, shit, oh fuck.” As Taehyung finds his release, come splattering the shower wall, he squeezes his eyes shut to see a pink tongue poke out of soft lips. The tongue wiggles a familiar metal hoop pierced through a plush bottom lip as his cock pulses for a final time. 

Energy spent, Taehyung leans his forehead on the wet tiled wall of the shower. 

“What the fuck,” he whispers harshly to himself. “What the fuck.” 

Taehyung has never had a more unsatisfying orgasm in his life. It was great. Mind-blowing, actually. He felt like he could barely stand to finish washing his body, his entire body tingling to his toes. He probably can’t count the number of times he dropped his washcloth because his hands were shaking so hard. 

And that is precisely why it was unsatisfying. It felt too good, and Taehyung spent the rest of his shower trying to ignore the memory of a tongue licking at a lip piercing replaying in his mind as he came. The whole thing is rather unfortunate, really. If Taehyung could stop overthinking how Jungkook had looked at him when Imani kissed him, Taehyung wouldn’t have gotten his friend’s image stuck in his head at such an awkward moment. 

It’s guilt making him obsess over the situation, Taehyung decides as he rubs a towel over his hair. The guilt of locking Jungkook out of their hotel room just so he could fuck a groupie when he knows the band needs rest - especially Jungkook. Being the lead singer is exhausting, even if Jungkook acts like he's okay.

Clean (in body, not in conscience), Taehyung pulls his (Jungkook’s) warm, plaid pajama pants up to sit low on his hips. He brushes away the taste of alcohol and pussy from his mouth, only realizing after he’s done that he accidentally used Jungkook’s toothbrush. 

Another secret he’ll take to the grave. 

By the time he’s dragging himself to his side of the bed, Taehyung still feels hot, like the shower's heat burned so deeply into his skin that he soaked it in. 

Jungkook is curled on his side, facing away from Taehyung. Blue light glows across his face from his phone. Twitter. The kid has a bad habit of checking their hashtags or the tags of venues and other bands they’re performing with. It’s all a bunch of nonsense: blurry concert photos, thirst tweets, and the occasional dudebro claiming Seokjin doesn’t know shit about shredding just because he looks like a suburban dad. There’s no use trying to stop Jungkook from internalizing it all, but Taehyung isn’t the type to give up easily. 

“Hey,” he whispers because the room is pitch black, and the quiet feels intimate. Intimate? Why would he use that word? “Time for bed, yeah?” 

Scooting up to slot himself behind Jungkook, close but not enough for their bodies to touch, Taehyung reaches around his chest to grab his phone. 

“Twitter will be there in the morning.” His voice comes out low and thick with exhaustion. 

Jungkook shivers, probably from Taehyung’s breath dancing across the nape of his neck. He smells of vanilla and lavender from Jimin’s shampoo. It’s comforting, though Taehyung figures that’s why Jimin buys it. Still, the sweet, floral scent is odd coming from Jungkook, who typically wears cologne with woody notes, cinnamon, and sandalwood. They’re masculine scents that make Taehyung dizzy. 

Jungkook lets out a breathy “yeah” and snuggles deeper into the blankets, hands tucked under his pillow. 

“Good.” Taehyung runs his knuckles along the side of Jungkook’s face, stopping at the top of his cheekbone. His mullet is tied back in a ponytail, leaving just his wavy bangs to cascade over his brow. It’s an absentminded touch that Taehyung hardly notices. 

Jungkook murmurs something Taehyung doesn’t hear and tilts his head slightly to give Taehyung more room to continue his knuckles’ path. But he’s already plucking Jungkook’s phone out of his hand. 

With the phone secured, Taehyung rolls back to his side of the bed and plugs it in to charge for the next… three and a half hours they have to sleep. The screen lights up to reveal a selfie of the four of them - Taehyung, Jungkook, Jimin, and Seokjin - at the first gig they ever played as a band. Only three years ago, yet Taehyung smiles as though it’s a memory from a past life. 

“’m sorry I yelled at you.” 

Taehyung turns his head to look at Jungkook. He lets the apology bleed into the dark silence for a moment. Snippy behavior is almost always followed up by an apology from the youngest member. Taehyung never takes his outbursts personally. Too much is riding on the kid’s shoulders to ever be mad at him. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“It wasn’t nice.” 

The bed creaks when Jungkook rolls over to lie on his side, this time facing Taehyung. His eyes are half-closed and drooping. He’s adorable like this, like always. There’s a reason why girls swoon over Jungkook more than the other bandmates. 

“I was being a dick.” If he wasn’t lying down, Taehyung would shrug. “I deserved it.” 

Silence engulfs the room long enough that Taehyung assumes the younger man has fallen asleep. It isn’t until his eyes finally give in to the heaviness that Jungkook’s soft whispers glide through the quiet. 

“Never a dick. Deserve good things, always, Taehyungie,” he mumbles into his pillow. 

A sleepy chuckle lazes out of Taehyung’s chest. “You too, Koo.” 

“Mm, g’night, TaeTae.” 

Taehyung’s chest tightens when he feels fingers ghost the inside of his wrist beneath the bed sheets. He rarely initiates physical contact with anyone. It’s always Jimin enveloping Taehyung in hugs, lifting his bangs to plant sweet kisses on his forehead, squeezing his hand in reassurance during every pre-show pep talk. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, hangs off of Jimin and Seokjin the most. Taehyung’s not sure when he and Jungkook stopped being as close as they were when the band started. But little moments like this remind Taehyung that maybe he gets in his head too much, overthinking things that aren’t even real or true. 

So he spreads his fingers to allow Jungkook to lace theirs together. They’re tired, and their tour is barely a quarter of the way done. There’s still a month until Spine Breaker Fest and nearly three months of post-fest gigs. 

Sometimes it’s nice to be grounded when you spend so much time with your head in the clouds, dreaming of things you may never grow tall enough to reach. 

He hopes they’ll grow for Jungkook’s sake. He meant it when he said he deserves good things. 

Taehyung squeezes Jungkook’s hand. His grip is loose, and Taehyung knows this means his friend has fallen asleep, but he still whispers, “Night, Koo.”

If Taehyung falls asleep to a lip piercing and a bunny smile, that’s another confusing secret to take to his grave. 

In the morning, Jungkook's leg is thrown across Taehyung's thighs. The older man grunts as he shoves his leg off, grumbling about Jungkook being a gym rat. There’s a reason why Jimin doesn’t ever share a bed with Taehyung, even though the two of them are the closest. Jungkook sleeps like an octopus, all limbs and a wicked snore. Taehyung doesn’t know if octopuses make sounds, but if they do, he’s sure they’d bellow like Jungkook does when sleeping. As the second youngest of the group, Taehyung is doomed to suffer Jungkook’s sleeping habits in favor of the older members getting their peaceful beauty sleep. 

“Hyung, turn it off.” 

Jungkook’s sweet voice is always gruff in the morning. He practically growls and tosses a hand out to slap Taehyung in the chest when the older man doesn’t move quick enough to turn off the alarm on his phone. 

“Ow, fuck!” The slap stings and turns his naked golden chest a blushing red. “Jin hyung's gonna rip us a new asshole if we don’t get up, man. I'm not tryna deal with his shit right now. My head fucking kills.” 

Jungkook grunts. He throws his pillow over his head and mumbles into the mattress. Whatever he says is inconsequential. The fear of Seokjin’s wrath if they don’t leave the hotel on time and the knowledge that Holiday Inns provide complimentary breakfast motivate Taehyung to haul his ass out of bed. 

A hangover and less than four hours of sleep don't look good on Taehyung. He inspects himself briefly in the bathroom as he uses his hands to cup cold water from the sink to his mouth. He quickly gulps down ibuprofen for his headache, feeling like some kind of animal hunched over the sink, scavenging for fresh water. He supposes he's not too far off. 

Today and tomorrow are travel days. That knowledge is enough to have him humming to himself as he washes his face. Travel days mean he gets to nap on the pull-out cot in the back of their camper van until it's his turn to drive, or one of the guys whines about having a chance at napping. Taehyung is known to complain loudly, but he always gives the guys what they want. 

They deserve good things. 

Taehyung covers his face with a handtowel, appreciative of the barrier between his sensitive eyes and the painfully-bright bathroom lights. He doesn't hear the door open over the sink's running faucet, so the press of fingertips into his bare sides startles him. 

"Oh," he sounds with a sharp exhale, lowering the towel from his face. Jungkook's cheeky grin greets him through the mirror. His hair is in disarray, just like Taehyung's, and there are two lines on the side of his face from where the fabric of his pillow pressed wrinkles against his skin. He looks undeniably soft. 

"So easy to sneak up on you," Jungkook teases. "You sure you wear earplugs when you're banging away on stage?" He squeezes Taehyung's hips. His hands are warm when they press against Taehyung's bare skin. 

"I always wear protection when I do any kind of banging; thank you very much." 

Jungkook doesn't appreciate Taehyung's snickering or the dirty joke, and he makes that known by shoving the other man out of the bathroom. 

"You're disgusting, you know that? Get your head out of the gutter." 

"I'm being safe. Didn't they teach you that in school, Mr. Edumacated?" 

Taehyung sticks out his tongue to avoid how his lips threaten to form the boxy smile girls go nuts over. It's okay to smile, but he does it once the bathroom door is shut. In private, he can tuck his chin against his chest while he rifles through his suitcase for a change of clothes. It's nice when things are easy between the two of them. Taehyung tries not to take advantage of these moments because he knows their relationship is fickle. 

Taehyung pulls on a pair of black joggers to match the plain black t-shirt he yanks over his head. His eyes find the mirror hanging on the wall. There's no use trying to manage his bedhead, so he uses a headband to push his bangs away from his face. The curls fall to frame his face rather than get in his eyes. Usually, he prides himself on being the member with the most diverse taste in fashion, but today he's aiming for a look that says, "dead but delicious," in the words of a character from one of his favorite movies. A few nights ago, he'd tried to get the guys to watch What We Do In The Shadows with him, but Seokjin was yelling at him to turn it off barely ten minutes into the movie. Something about it feeling like a weird, indie, supernatural version of The Office. As if that's a bad thing! 

Adjusting the thin gold chain resting on his collarbones, Taehyung gives himself a final look in the mirror before packing his luggage. It's minimal because they only bring overnight bags to the hotel, leaving the bigger stuff in the van. Smaller bags mean less effort to pack up, although Jungkook is always nervous that someone might steal the van. Jimin likes to point out that it's the ugliest vehicle he's ever seen in his life, and anyone who wants to steal a pickle-green camper van with Star Wars decals and an "EMO DAD" custom license plate is genuinely psychotic. 

With a snort at the thought, Taehyung digs around in Jungkook's suitcase to toss a few articles of clothing onto the bed. It's an outfit similar to his: black sweatpants, a black hoodie, and a black undershirt. However, he has a little more fun with the briefs and socks he picks out for Jungkook - decorated with purple hearts and marijuana leaves, respectively.   

Satisfied with his artistry, Taehyung slips on his backpack and grabs the handle of Jungkook's suitcase. The water is still running in the bathroom; from experience, Taehyung knows it will take a while for Jungkook to finish his morning routine. So he heads to the lobby with everything. After that, Jungkook will only need to bring his toiletries down. 

Unsurprisingly, Seokjin and Jimin are already seated in the dining area. Their overnight bags sit on the floor near their table. They're munching on the typical food hotels in the middle of nowhere America serve for breakfast: cereal, weirdly-artificial scrambled eggs, sausage links, and burnt toast. Terrible, really, but perfect hangover food for Taehyung, whose stomach is empty and who is one more glass of water away from throwing up in front of his bandmates, hotel staff, and multiple families with small children. 

"Good morning, Taehyungie!" Jimin's entirely too loud, his voice carrying over the backdrop of babies crying at the tables beside them and pink-faced politicians going at each other on the TV hanging on the wall. 

Taehyung drops the luggage beside his bandmates' and slumps into the chair beside Jimin. 

"Oh, baby." The blonde man reaches over to press the back of his hand to Taehyung's forehead. "You look like shit." 

Seokjin nods in agreement, his mouth stuffed with food. 

"You're so loud." Taehyung tosses a look over his shoulder, eyes scanning the dining area. "I don't need everyone hearing you call me baby." 

His eyes land on a group of young women crowded around a table. They're pretty and giggly, the type of girls who like guys like Taehyung. Guys with stern faces who look bored and unattainable. They're the type of girls who think opposites attract - and that it will work out. 

Jimin lets out a huff and rolls his eyes. "Sorry, sometimes I forget you're scared of platonic affection between men. So fucking metal of you." 

"I'm not scared of anything," Taehyung grumbles. His complaints have little bite to them; it would require energy he certainly doesn't have. He folds his arms against the table and lays his head on them. Something on the table makes his forearms stick to the surface. He tries not to think about it. 

"I meant it with love, you bitch." Taehyung's eyes are closed, but he knows Jimin has a smile on his face. He can hear it in his voice tilting at the end of his sentence. 

Jimin's chair scoots across the floor when he pushes off from the table. As he passes Taehyung on the way to the buffet, he runs his fingers through Taehyung's hair. Jimin's fingers may be calloused from years of strumming a guitar, but he has the gentlest touch out of anyone Taehyung knows. 

"I told you to lay off the tequila shots." Seokjin's voice is muffled. Jimin has fought him over talking with food in his mouth one too many times.

Taehyung grunts. 

"I distinctly remember you crying at the beginning of the night about how you didn't want to drink." 

"Yeah, I know." Taehyung turns his head to the side so he can speak, but his eyes remain shut. Walking to the lobby shook him up a little bit. If he keeps his eyes closed, maybe nausea will stay away. "Blame Jungkook. He's the one who kept buying the shots." 

"Jungkook-ah still asleep?"  

"Getting ready." 

Seokjin chomps away at a waffle drenched in syrup. His cheeks puff out with food, almost making him look like he's not the most intimidating person Taehyung has ever met. Even if he's wearing a pink polo. It does have a tiny skull and crossbones stitched into the pocket, though. Taehyung will give him credit for that. 

"I'm surprised he's even up. With you and that girl being so fucking loud-"

"Ahhhhh!" 

Taehyung cracks an eye open to see Jimin hovering over him with a plate stacked with food.

"Food! You need food!" He rushes to speak and places the plate beside Taehyung's head. The tilt of his head over his shoulder is a poorly-executed attempt to hide his face from Taehyung when he glowers at Seokjin. "How about we go over the plan for the day, hmm?" 

Seokjin rolls his eyes, but he immediately takes out his phone. "Alright, we've got roughly ten to twelve hours to go today. I've factored in stops for food, gas, and bathroom breaks for when Taehyung gets the DADS." 

"Shut up," Taehyung scoffs. He props his head up with one hand and uses the other to pick at the food Jimin brought him. "I don't have the DADS." 

Seokjin points at him with a fork. "Yet." 

He tsks when Taehyung opens his mouth to accuse him of putting such bad energy into the universe. "Anyway. Taehyung's got the first shift." 

"What?" Taehyung shoots up in his chair and immediately regrets the quick movement as his head spins. He groans, wrapping his arms around his waist. "No way. No way I'm doing that." 

"Doing what?" 

The three men startle at the sudden appearance of Jungkook standing beside their table. In his hands is a small travel bag that Taehyung knows holds his toiletries and pajamas. He gives the group a quizzical look, but the cute bunny smile plays at his lips. Taehyung is pleased to see he's wearing the outfit he picked. 

Of course, he is. He had no other option. 

Still, Taehyung smiles despite his unease. When he catches Jungkook's eye, the younger scrunches his nose and wiggles it slightly. 

"Taehyungie is hungover, and hyung wants him to drive," Jimin explains off-handedly. Apparently, his concern for Taehyung's well-being is put on the back burner so he can focus on the influx of Instagram followers the band has gained after their performance the night before. "Look how many likes Jungkookie's post got!" He turns his phone around for the other three to look. 

In the photo, Jungkook is standing in the middle of the stage. His head is tilted backward, and his arms are spread wide as if he's opening up for a giant hug from the universe. The stretch of his arms makes his jean jacket fall open, exposing his bare chest. His skinny jeans hang low on his hips, exposing the bright white band of his Calvin Klein briefs. The venue's lights reflect off the sweat covering his toned abdomen. The first comment on the photo is someone boldly declaring that they would love to lick the sweat off the singer's abs. 

"No surprise there." Seokjin snorts. "Sex sells."

Not to sound cliche, but Taehyung thinks he looks like a rockstar. A real rockstar. 

"Uhh..." Jungkook's cheeks turn a light shade of pink, which prompts Jimin to let out a delightful giggle. "I'll drive first." 

They all ignore the fact that Jungkook doesn't respond to Jimin or Seokjin about the Instagram post. 

Taehyung's eyes are stuck on Jungkook as he reaches for the apple juice Jimin brought him. Despite being nauseous only a few minutes ago, his throat now feels uncomfortably dry. 

"You got the same amount of sleep that I did," he points out with a pout. 

Jungkook waves him off. "Yeah, but I'm not hungover." 

It's not supposed to be judgmental, Taehyung thinks. But it feels like it when Jungkook doesn't look him in the eyes as he speaks. Guilt makes the apple juice taste bitter. 

"JK, please eat?" Jimin tugs on the sleeve of Jungkook's hoodie. "We can argue about driving shifts and eat at the same time." 

Taehyung ends up in the passenger seat. Jimin says sitting up front will be easier for him to ask Jungkook to pull over if he needs to throw up. Taehyung thinks Jimin just wants to lounge in the back with Seokjin on the pull-out cot. 

The camper van is kind of old, and Seokjin bought it used, but it's got enough room for the guys to spread out a bit and still pack all their equipment and instruments in the back. There's a small sink that doesn't work and a mini fridge that's a tad bit too warm, but it does the job. The cot is what Taehyung is most appreciative of; his legs are too long to be shoved into cramped seats for hours on end. 

Jimin and Seokjin sprawl out on the cot together, sharing a pair of earphones to watch something on Jimin's laptop. Probably Queer Eye, Jimin's newest obsession. It's funny, considering all Jimin ever wears is dark-colored clothing with rips and chains adorning the fabric. Tan France would likely be appalled. 

"It's punk, Taehyung. You and your frilly high fashion getup wouldn't understand." 

He's pretty sure Jimin is the reason why the eyeliner industry still exists. 

A light pressure against Taehyung's thigh pulls his eyes away from the back of the van. He looks down to see Jungkook's phone sitting in his lap. 

"Get the directions up for me?" The younger one fumbles with the dashboard phone holder while Taehyung pulls up the GPS. "You can use the AUX if you want." 

Taehyung's eyes widen. When Jungkook looks over, his expression drops for a millisecond. 

"No jazz." 

"Jungkook-ahhhhhhhh!" 

"No fucking jazz, hyung. I'll fall asleep and kill all of us. Is that what you want?" 

Jungkook tries to look stern, but his mouth noticeably twitches at the corners. It makes Taehyung's chest tighten. Probably because he's teetering on the verge of throwing up. 

When Jungkook's tongue flicks out to lick at his piercing, Taehyung finally drops his eyes to the AUX cord his friend is holding. He plugs it into his phone and picks the latest album he's been listening to because his brain is short-circuiting with the memory of Jungkook's lips from the night before. 

Hozier's Eat Your Young filters through the speakers, and Taehyung wonders what the fuck is wrong with him when Jungkook's voice drops lower to match Hozier's baritone. 

"Let me put my lips to something, let me wrap my teeth around... Hey! Put it back on!"

Taehyung furiously scrolls through his recently played songs. Why are all my songs so horny? He silently bemoans to himself. His thumb eventually lands on Ring Ding Dong, and Seokjin immediately screeches from the backseat. 

"Absolutely the fuck not!" He shoots up from the cot, causing the earphones to rip out of Jimin's ear. "Turn it off!" 

He tries snatching the phone from Taehyung, but he beats the older man off. "Okay, fine, fine! I'll pick something else!" 

Jungkook falls silent as he navigates the van onto the highway, taking a moment when Taehyung pauses the music to listen to the GPS announce which direction he should go. He looks so serious when he drives, one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other resting on the shifter. It's so different than when it's Taehyung's turn to take over. Taehyung drives with his whole body, arms loose to bust a few moves when a song hits just right. He likes to weave through the lanes, drive fast, and let the windows down to blow through his fluffy hair. 

Maybe not today, though, considering he feels like death. 

Taehyung's forearm bumps his when they both move to rest their arms on the middle console. He quickly lifts his arm, but Jungkook lets out a quiet laugh. 

"Stay." 

Taehyung keeps his eyes on his phone, but he nods as he returns to the position. They can rest their arms comfortably, even though it forces them to press their forearms against each other. 

Finally, he finds some random punk pop playlist Spotify curated for him and tosses his phone onto the dash. Eventually, they'll enter a part of the countryside with unreliable service, and looking at his phone will be pointless. 

The occasional nostalgic band shuffling through the playlist isn't enough to keep Taehyung's eyes open. He tries not to lean back in his chair and tries to widen his eyes to stare out at the empty highway and emerald green fields blurring past them. It's so boring. Taehyung's brain is always buzzing, a never-ending monologue of thoughts and a desire to fidget and move. It's hard to stay in one place. 

"You can sleep." Jungkook looks at Taehyung out of the corner of his eye. 

"You need someone to stay up with you." 

Jungkook shrugs. His fingers tap the steering wheel to the beat of the song. Taehyung thinks he'd probably make a great drummer. He tucks away the thought of teaching him one day deep into the recesses of his mind. 

"It's okay, really." 

It's not okay. Jungkook needs company, and Taehyung knows it. 

Sighing, he crosses his arms against his chest and picks a new tactic. He uses all his effort to twist his face into a scowl and glares out the window. Maybe playing stubborn will give him new energy. 

"No." 

A finger reaches out to flick Taehyung on the tip of his nose. "Shut the fuck up and take a nap, hyung. Please." 

Jungkook's chuckle rumbles from his chest when Taehyung pouts. Pouts typically get Taehyung what he wants, although he can't quite master the puppy-eyed look Jungkook pulls out when he feels like being deadly. So just in case Jungkook tries to pull it on him now, he keeps his eyes forward. 

As usual, Jungkook manages to command his attention even without Taehyung looking at him. His index finger drops slightly to poke at Taehyung's bottom lip as if he's trying to push it back into a normal position. 

"Don't be so difficult," he chides with a grin, returning his right hand to the shifter. 

Taehyung nods, unable to find the words to protest when he still feels the ghost of Jungkook's finger pressed to his lips. He flicks his tongue over the spot and wonders why his chest still hurts. 

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