@— ✾ ⋰ jungkook j. Jin didn’t think the man beside him could be any more mesmerizing, yet there was such a sweet sense of wonder sparkling behind focused orbs. His aura shifted with ease on and off stage and that added a layer of intrigue. While Seokjin was a designer, his restless fingers grappled with his pencil, merely twirling it between his knuckles to contain his brimming inspiration. He could draw a full piece detailing every bit of Jeon Jeongguk’s essence the moment their eyes meet once more.
A knowing smile swiftly debuts on Seokjin’s lips, though his eyes don’t leave the other again now that his sketch is complete. Lowering the pad of paper onto the couch cushion beside him, Seokjin crossed one leg over the other and leaned in to rest an elbow on the armrest Jeongguk just pulled back from in an effort to smoothly maintain their distance rather than let it slip away.
The dancer in front of him had a mischievous air to him… It wasn’t innocent, surely. “Thank you for your lenience, but however will I repay you…?” The older man let his voice trail with furrowed brows before springing a small smile. “What’s your name? I’m Seokjin,” his hand stuck out from habit alone. A businessman never shied from a handshake, especially not when such a worthwhile soul was sat in front of him. He’d be a fool not to introduce himself and make potential intentions clear. “I own an art gallery in the city, but designing is my passion.” Being direct was important, but he also didn’t want to scare the other off by claiming he was a cure for his months long designer’s block. That didn’t stop the words from tumbling out. His eyes were set on the impressive dancer and it seemed that even Seokjin was weak to a pretty face.
“I’ve been racking my brain over new designs, but your performance was inspiring. …If I made this piece,” Jin bobbed his head towards the sketch, “Would you be willing to try it on for me? Maybe let me take a few photos for my catalog?” Jin couldn’t put his finger on what special skill or quality Jeongguk possessed -honestly, he could already see that there were many- but regardless he wouldn’t compliment the stranger without hesitation. It’d leave a sense of mystery to their interaction and Jin worried this design might be a one off. He could only hope a constant flow of ideas were in his future.
As the pair eyed one another, Jin found himself raising a brow. He knew why /he/ was interested in watching Jeongguk, but the claim that it was mutual stumped him. “Am I that interesting?” Seokjin knew he was handsome, but beyond that, he wasn’t sure what was so eye catching to warrant the dancer’s undivided attention. Even so, it wasn’t shooed away.
@✻ ⋰ seokjin k. [] all of those r so good ugh i am goin with number 4 cause of the tummy thing gero
Jeongguk was leaning forward without even thinking about it, half hanging off the armchair; he probably looked stupid, but Jeongguk didn't care; he was enraptured by the sketch on the notepad before him.
Perhaps he'd been a little too hasty, he thought, cheeks beginning to burn- not from embarrassment(Jeongguk was rarely embarrassed) but from sudden, very out-of-character shyness.
He didn't try to take the sketchpad from Seokjin, just tugging it closer to him so that he could study the artwork. Jeongguk's eyes wandered across the sketch, drinking in everything he could see- he didn't know much about art; honestly, he probably couldn't name any one famed painter if you held a gun to his head(extreme example, he knows, but it gets the point across). Still, Jeongguk knew how this sketch made him feel, clawing up some foggy distant memory of being told art was about emotion.
Jeongguk knew he was beautiful; he'd be stupid not to, but he had his flaws, though none seemed to make an appearance here. Where he saw grey shadows and sunken skin, Seokjin drew plush cheeks and bright eyes that, even on paper, beckoned you to be captivated by his spell. The clothing is nothing he's ever seen- it's organic, structured, almost floral in how it sits on his skin. The top? Jeongguk doesn't even know if he can call it that; it's so inspired, but the top does wonders in highlighting his best features. His lips twitch as he quietly giggles when he notices Seokjin has drawn his s hardened. The keyhole design around his abdomen emphasises the lines of his abs, and Jeongguk finds that even he wants to himself, looking at this.
He sees the passion that coursed through his body as he performed. He looked strong, , full of feeling.
Most importantly, Jeongguk looks alive.
Jeongguk's eyes flickered to meet Seokjins; for once, he was stunned speechless.
"I can probably let it go this time," He says easily, sinking back into his seat, "You can probably tell- I'm a real stickler for the rules, but I don't mind making an exception." his eyelashes flutter as a loose smile stretches across his lips. A stupidly good-looking man is one way to get Jeongguk interested in playing- catering to his need for attention, flattering him? Jeongguk might as well just kneel between his legs now.
And wow, is he tempted to do just that.
"Maybe I did, because I made some assumptions that were wrong-" Jeongguk said slowly, eyes glittering- not just from the soft pink, sparkled shadow decorating his lids- as his gaze raked down(and up) Seokjin's figure, his interest piquing; fingers tapping his cheek in quick succession. His expression twisting into something more lascivious, the lines around his eyes sharpening. "And some that are very right. But now I'm interested in watching you for other reasons."
This was Seokjin’s third time visiting the Venus, all within the same month. While the businessman had yet to utilize the wandering pearls and their numerous services, he was willing to pay for a membership solely for nighttime access to an establishment where he could unwind. So far, he’d done so with either a glass of whiskey or cigarettes. Both vices left an equally unpleasant taste on his lips. The way his tense shoulders lowered from a drawn out stretch of his cracking neck was worth more than a new monthly bill that he labeled as petty change.
Work at the gallery was beyond stressful as of late -he was currently organizing four different shows, one per week for the entirety of the month- and while one could argue that all work and no play made Kim Seokjin a dull boy, he turned to his sketchbook for a splash of nightly fun. Yet designer’s block had plagued him for weeks now. Most nights just ended with blank pages marred by a condensation ring from his various glasses as they were slowly sipped from. Such a conflicting situation is why he resorted to visiting the Venus with his sketchbook in hand. His phone was collected upon entrance, however he’d tucked the medium-sized pad of paper in his jacket beforehand. All that was left was to find a relaxing place to unwind.
The Reef proved both a little too raunchy for his tastes and bothersome with constant conversation, Cupid’s Chaise was too unstimulating to sketch in, and there was no way he’d keep his head grounded had he settled in Ambrosia for longer than thirty seconds. In the end, the designer took refuge in La Belle. The interior décor was mildly inspiring, and each passing body donated their overlaying voices into a peaceful white noise for him to draw to. The vibe was just right and. though many of the dances weren’t to his taste, he didn’t mind the elevating noise as the excitement level rose amongst clients. Even so, blips of loud hoots and hollers still snuck through his ears; he wasn’t fully focused as his pesky designer’s block made itself painfully evident once more.
Sighing aloud, Seokjin lifted his head and reached over to a table beside him. His pencil balanced aptly between digits that encompassed a chilled glass of gin and tonic. The faded burn tingled down his throat as now unfocused orbs took in his surroundings. Just how long had he been sitting in this room? The time- He could afford another hour of frustrated sighs and blown eraser shavings at most. Letting his sketchpad lay propped against his crossed legs, he leaned back with one arm against the lounger he was sitting in as the other remained around the glass that periodically met his lips. A drawing break would do him some good. All the while, deep chocolate orbs fixed themselves onto the stage as the next performer approached the lone silver pole centered on the black platform.
Every dancer was a woman, so the mere sight of a man taking the stage had his brow raising and his interest piqued for a few seconds. It would easily be lost once the music started, or so he thought. The male dancer captivated his gaze with a strong stance from the first beat. Now, this dancer might have an advantage on his side since Jin was majorly attracted to men, but his performance exuded a palatable mixture of both class and . Each movement held purpose from how the muscular form stretched and glided around the pole. Rolls of his impressive form were reminiscent of something more inappropriate around the pole until they led to the floor where thick, spread thighs unconsciously lead to a of overly dry lips. The sharp bend of the other’s back towards the floor easily caught his eye and Jin quietly let a forced exhale fall from his mouth upon seeing the beauty press his entire body against the floor. The dance enticed him in all the right ways and yet, his head was turned down the entire show.
Contrary to the dancer’s belief, Seokjin had caught the full performance between speedy penciled movements. His head must have knocked down seven seconds into the show as the designer remained still save for countless turned up gazes that quickly shot back and forth between the stage and the white page quickly filling with smoky graphite.
Said dancer was in the midst of crowd interaction to collect his spoils while Seokjin was speedily finishing up a loose form of the pearl’s body twisting around a pole, and most importantly, wearing a fresh design that embodied the delicate yet stimulating embers he’d lit in the artist. Just as he’d put the final touches on the quick sketch, an unfamiliar voice yanked his mind from whatever unexpected immersion he’d locked into, and much to his surprise, it was the man still twirling through his memory.
After a beat of silence, Seokjin answers smoothly as his eyes dart back to his sketchpad. Now that the man was in front of him, he could add more detail to the face, a typically overlooked aspect of a fashion sketch that shifted all focus onto the designed clothing. “Is that so? You won’t report me, will you?” The older asked without fear, though he’d pretty upset if his sketchpad was confiscated now that he was finally getting somewhere.
You’d think Seokjin would be enamored by the handsome man that shattered his designer’s block and, he was, just on the inside. Chocolate orbs shimmered from the man’s arrival, but his overall form was still relaxed as he simply shot observant glances at the other’s face before returning to his drawing to finish up his burst design. Starting off with a low hum, Seokjin bobbed his head affirmatively despite the casual, almost dismissive words that followed. “I saw it.”
Bringing the pad of his thumb to his lips, a quick swipe of his tongue prefaced a harsh brush of the finger against his sketch to flare out a shadow. As much as it seemed like he wasn’t paying Jeongguk an ounce of attention, he’d done just the opposite and that much was evident as he turned his creation around to face the dancer. Depicted was the charming pearl beautifully stretched around the pole, one hand pressed against the metal above his head and the rest of his limbs flared out in a way that read appeal. Most importantly, the top he’d drawn on him was a lacy mess of cutouts that highlighted the musculature of his body and built pectorals, to think the pretty s that would traditionally be hidden beneath fabric.
“I must have missed the part where you were touching yourself for me specifically,” Jin mused, a ghostly smile wavering against plush lips as his gaze solely focused on the younger now, loud and clear. What he thought of the performance should be self-explanatory at this point, but one question lingered on his mind. “Were you watching me just as intently?” What a compliment it was for the dancer to be eyeing him during his big performance.
For the most part, Jungkook thinks the girls at the Venus look better up here.
His preference has always been the nosebleeds, out with the great 'unwashed'(it seems like a joke, but the number of men that Jungkook comes across that seemingly haven't showered in days... He shudders to think about it.), and latching onto customers, one by one, wheedling every bit of monetary affection he can; all for a bat of his eyelashes and the far-fetched hope of being able to touch him.
Yeah, that's what he prefers.
But the thrill of the pole can be a little too enticing-
Having so many pairs of eyes on him as he swings, body contorting as languidly as the music pulsing through the club speakers, smooth and supple like honey; it's electrifying, it's a shiver down his spine, and it's purposefully pressing the most sensitive parts of his body against cold, cold steel, edging himself like he doesn't give a that he's in front of an audience- and he doesn't. And it's what makes him such a popular, albeit rare, evening show at La Belle.
Yeah, he could come to prefer this instead.
He can see some regulars of his in the crowd that might prefer this instead, sharp, black-rimmed eyes glittering as they lock with the equally lustful lechers in the audience(and those, he notices, not watching him at all); his lower lip drawn between his teeth, brows furrowing so prettily like lying on the floor like this is the most thing in the world, and he rolls upwards, chest bare and glimmering under the stage lights. With the front of his body hidden from his voyeurs, Jungkook glances over his shoulder, hand running suggestively down his front as he mimics a gasp- then he's sliding, twisting, suggesting what he might look like sitting on your lap, cheeks flushed and panting, hands running across his body; until the song closes and he's on his knees, gaze demure under thick lashes; a sly smirk stretched across his lips.
As the lights dim, and he's met with applause, Jungkook slides himself off the stage, accepting the fistfuls of money bills stuffed into his hands and underwear, exchanging short, unmeaningful pleasantries that hold his attention for a few seconds before he's moving on. Because Jungkook is making a beeline for one thing and one thing only.
The one person in the crowd who hadn't been watching him.
And boy, is he ing pissed.
Jungkook might've missed him if a spotlight early on his routine had flashed across the distracted man, and Jungkook's attention had been drawn back to him constantly. He was offended, hurt, by it; who wouldn't be? Pouring your heart and soul into something just for somebody to not appreciate it? No, this wouldn't work. Jungkook wanted this- no, he needed this; he needed to know that he was the centre of everybody's attention.
As he gets closer, he can see the man holding a notepad of some kind, and... is that a pen? Is he drawing? Jungkook's brows knit together, a little confused because it felt a little random, for all the reasons that somebody could not watch him.
"You know, you could get into trouble for bringing that in here," Jungkook lilts, forgoing any pleasantries by sitting in a plush armchair beside the strange, one smooth leg crossover the other as he leans over the side. He can't see what the man is drawing- much to his frustration- and he's not subtle as his eyes flicker between the pad and the man's partially hidden face.
"What could be so important that you can't watch me touch myself on stage for you, hm?" Jungkook pouts, propping his head up with his elbow.
