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BTS - First Date (Suga x Jeong-sun)

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It was getting late and the party had finally started to quieten down by the time Yoongi followed the maknae down the stairs. The younger man’s eyes roamed nervously around the downstairs rooms from his vantage point on the bottom step, seeking out the woman he had been hiding from for the past half hour. Satisfied the coast was clear, he headed into the adjoined kitchen with Yoongi trailing behind, making a beeline for the long hallway at the other end where he could just make out Namjoon standing near the front door. Behind him, the older man hesitated by the refrigerator, his attention distracted by the figure standing alone by the kitchen island behind a flirting couple. Although she was mostly turned away from him, partially blocked from view, he could just make out her features from the side as she gazed into space. She held an empty plastic party-cup loosely against her chest where a cluster of pastel roses adorned the centre of her t-shirt. She didn’t notice him looking and, for a moment, Yoongi considered dropping the whole thing and simply joining the others in the hall; the young woman was friends with the hostess rather than any mutual acquaintance so his chances of seeing her again where slim.

Turning back to watch as Jungkook weaved his way past the couple in the centre of the room, he contemplated why it seemed so important that he speak to the woman before he left if only to apologise for his behaviour in the closet. He found her attractive; that much he could admit to himself. Her almost-bare, natural-looking features had stood out to him before the game as he saw her with her friends; the wispy and slightly unruly eyebrows above her almond-shaped eyes were charmingly animated as she smiled and her straight black hair framed her long face, skimming the clutter of light freckles which adorned her jasmine-shaded cheekbones. The casual attire she sported gave the vague impression that she had either not received the dress code for the evening or did not care either way and Yoongi found himself wondering if she had a boyfriend; whether she didn’t feel the need to impress anyone else.

The internal debate on whether he should simply leave the party without saying goodbye only lasted seconds but Jungkook noticed his friend pausing for thought and backtracked.

“Are you coming?” The younger man asked, voice laced with apprehension. He had been jumpy since coming out of the closet earlier in the evening.

Yoongi hesitated, looking briefly at the girl before turning back to his band-mate. “I won’t be long.” He murmured, making up his mind.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook called as Yoongi turned on his heels and started to weave through the groups of people who stood sipping drinks and talking.

“I’ll just be a minute...” He said, not turning back as he walked over to the island counter and over to the woman who had introduced herself as Jeong-sun several hours before. He approached quietly, not wanting to startle her as she stared straight ahead.

“Where’s your friend?” He asked from beside her, his voice gentle as he met her gaze. Her brown eyes shot up at the sound of his voice. She looked as though he had broken her trail of thought and, looking down, she realised her cup was empty and placed it on the edge of the counter before responding a little slowly.

“She just went out to get some bread.” She explained without elaborating.

Yoongi remembered what she had said earlier about Yu-Jin and didn’t question what an unusual errand a bread-run seemed in the middle of a house party. Jeong-sun pressed on, her gaze darting behind him to the small crowd which had started to gather in the hallway. “Are you leaving?” She asked.

“Apparently so.” He replied drily, hoping his slight disappointment and annoyance didn’t come across. He understood why they were leaving and thought, in a way, it was probably for the best. He had a vague suspicion that Jungkook had gotten himself into some kind of trouble and, were Jimin and Taehyung to drink any more alcohol, there would certainly be an accident - something would get broken. Despite this, there was a part of him that wished he could stay a little longer.

Jeong-sun’s lips turned gently at the corners, the apples of her cheeks becoming momentarily pronounced. “Your friend Namjoon?” She questioned, understanding. Yoongi nodded and she pressed on. “I guess it wasn’t his idea to come?”

Running his hand briefly through his platinum locks, he glanced at the open doorway and observed Jungkook pointing into the kitchen. He shrugged noncommittally. “He thought it was a bad idea.”

She paused and her brown eyes locked once more with his, causing an uncharacteristic murmur in his chest when she spoke. “Was it?”

He shook his head, his eyes slipping from hers. “I think he’s overreacted.”

There was a moment of silence between them before he asked what he had been meaning to all evening, since before the game had started. “Can I get you a drink?”

Jeong-sun hesitated as she observed several of his band-mates putting on coats and jackets in the hallway behind them “Is there time?” She asked. “It looks like they are ready to leave.”

Yoongi followed her eye-line to the doorway before turning back. “They won’t get far.” He commented. “I’m driving...”

She laughed, her head snapping back in a gesture which seemed to resonate in Yoongi’s stomach as he reached over counter and picked up a rectangular bottle, half-filled with Jack Daniels. He pointed at it in a questioning gesture and she grinned, her chest and stomach still heaving as she calmed down.

“That’ll do the job.” She quipped as he unscrewed the lid and slowly poured the dark amber liquid into the plastic cup she had discarded earlier on the tiled surface. He estimated the amount of a shot and paused, looking up at her.

She smirked. “I’m not driving.”

Yoongi grinned in reply. “Live a little.” He agreed, pouring a little more in before reaching automatically for the two-litre bottle of Coca Cola to use as a mixer.

“I’ll probably go after this too...” She murmured as he handed her the drink. “Cheers.” She raised it slightly before pressing it to her lips, taking an approving sip.

Despite what he had said, the rabble of noise coming from behind him confirmed that his band-mates were indeed getting ready to leave and would probably set off without him if he didn’t join them soon. He suspected that Namjoon would call a taxi if he needed to, just to get the group away from the place and realising his time with Jeong-sun was drawing to a close, he piped up. “About the closet...”

She shook her head, cutting him off. “Don’t worry about it.” She muttered gently.

“I was going to ask you before...about your internship.” He tried to explain, realising there wasn’t going to be enough time. She seemed to sense his sudden urgency.

“Another time maybe.” Her tone was kind, warm, but Yoongi sensed the doubt beneath the surface.

“I’d like that...” He said automatically, realising as he said it that if he didn’t ask her now, he wouldn’t get the chance again. “Can I call you?”

There was a slight pause, the change in direction taking her by surprise. She recovered quickly, her lips tugging upwards in a slightly mischievous smile. “I’m in the phone book.” She smirked. “Under Kwon.”

Yoongi let out a breathy laugh in reply. “Kwon Jeong-sun?” He confirmed, waiting for her small nod before turning away from her to join his friends in the hallway.

Jeong-sun watched from behind as he walked across the room, a slight smile playing on her lips. She rolled her eyes a little to herself and took a sip from her cup, checking the rectangular dial of her delicate, pearl-faced watch and realising that while it had seemed like hours had passed, her friends had only left her on their mini-market errand ten minutes ago. She pressed the plastic to her lips, finishing off half the cup in a few gulps before the sound of the front door opening caught her attention. She watched the group of men slowly pile out of the building in pairs or threes and into the cold night and smiled in reply when Yoongi held out his hand, waving to her from the doorway before disappearing.

The drink had been a nice gesture but she wouldn’t hold her breath for the phone call. Famous or not, she knew the silly game in the closet had been a catalyst for rowdy behaviour and that his seemingly calm temperament did not distract from the fact that she suspected he would have much rather entered the closet with Angel or Seo-yon. She wasn’t insecure per se and was certainly no stranger to attention from men, but she had known the girls since they shared a dormitory at university and that was how things usually went. When it came to being asked out, she often suspected she wasn’t first choice. Masked by a sudden bout of flirtation, the phone book suggestion had been a subtle defense mechanism and she felt certain that Yoongi would be unwilling to put that much effort into finding the phone number of a pharmacist he had met in a closet.



Jeong-sun ignored the old-fashioned ringing drone of the landline as she filled her electric kettle with water from the tap. The phone had been included in her internet package and was barely used. Her family and friends knew to call her on her cell, even if she had it on silent mode most of the time, having forgotten to turn the volume back on following her long shifts at the pharmacy. The last few times she had bothered answering the large, bulky device in the hallway, she had been greeted by monotonous voices asking whether she had recently had an accident which was not her fault, was in need of new double glazing or had been mis-sold payment protection insurance. While the second question was undoubtedly a yes, she did not think her landlord would be too happy to agree unless she paid for it out of her own pocket.

She barely noticed the ringing stop until it started again five minutes later and headed into the hall to pick the phone from its cradle before swiftly putting it back down and silencing the noise. If it was important, the voicemail message directed the caller to her personal mobile number and spam callers often didn’t bother, having ticked her name off the undoubtedly endless list they had to get through during their shift. Satisfied, she finished pouring the boiling water into the plastic container of ramen, leaving it to soak for a few minutes before she headed into her bedroom. Glancing at her bed, she noticed her cell on the duvet blinking and she picked it up to read the message on screen.

Aren’t you going to pick up?

Frowning, she pressed reply, turning to sit down heavily on the edge of her sheets.

Who’s this?

The response came thirty seconds later.

Yoongi. From the closet.

Her heart skipped as her thumb outlined the green call button at the top of the screen, contemplating whether it was best to just ignore him. She wondered how he had managed to find her cell number, thinking that while he was famous, surely his company weren’t so powerful as to track down the private details of a girl one of their members had met at a party, before remembering the answerphone message she had recorded on her landline. She realised she had been starring at the screen long enough for the display to turn itself off automatically and sighed to herself, thinking why not?

He answered on the fifth ring as she pressed the device to her ear. “Sorry, I thought you were a cold caller.” She explained. There was a pause before he spoke.

“Is this a bad time?”

Jeong-sun shook her head to herself, standing up from the bed. “I’m just making dinner.”

“What are you having?” He asked in a low voice. She hadn’t really noticed its deepness at the party but now on the phone, it seemed obvious. It was a little purry, seeming to resonate through her eardrums soothingly. She pushed into her cluttered living room and headed for the discarded pot of food, realising she had almost forgotten about it.

“Instant ramen.” She admitted a little drily as she rummaged through a draw for a fork, knowing it would be easier to eat one-handed while on the phone. She swirled the noodles around in the pot before sitting at the small island in the centre of the room which served as a make-shift table whenever she had guests around; which was not often.

“What flavour?” He asked, making her grin a little at his apparent curiosity.

“Chicken.” She twisted the noodles around her fork slowly, careful in order to keep the pot steady.

He paused. “I wasn’t hungry, but now I am.”

A surprising bout of laughter escaped through her pursed lips in messy exhalations and she put the fork down in the pot, unable to continue after his quip. “They were the last thing in the cupboard.” She explained in between giggles. “I need to go shopping.”

Calming down, she wondered whether he was going to comment on this. After all, other than revealing her profession, she hadn’t informed him that her career paid barely enough to keep her small, one-bedroom flat running, never mind buy enough groceries to cook from scratch every night. When he didn’t reply, she wondered whether he was feeling sorry for her and changed the subject, a little uncomfortably. “How long did it take to find my number?” She asked.

“About three or four districts.” He replied after a moment.

“Good detective work.” She smirked, thinking. “I didn’t think you’d call...”

“I figured.” He murmured honestly. “I didn’t make the best first impression.”

Jeong-sun shook her head once more, her cheeks feeling a little warm. “It’s not that.” She paused, wondering how to phrase it without sounding arrogant. “It’s just that when men ask for your number at a party it’s usually for a booty call.” No sooner as the words left her lips, she paused, a new thought suddenly occurring to her for the first time since the party. “It’s not, is it?” She inquired doubtfully.

He hesitated. “Sort of...”

Her mouth twisted in a knowing and slightly exasperated smile, rolling her eyes a little before he pressed on.

“I was wondering if you were free tomorrow evening?”

“For sex?” She challenged.

He laughed a little breathily. “I was thinking more for a drink.”

His reply took her by surprise and her stomach lurched a little at the thought. She took a moment to answer, trying to steady her voice. “That’s a relief.” She said, her voice dry. “I’m still working on my summer body.”

“Me too.” He quipped automatically, making her laugh once more as her eyes darted to the small window in the corner. The darkening sky outside looked cold and uninviting as a shower of rain pattered against the single-paned glass. She inadvertently shivered.

“What did you have in mind?” She queried openly, unsure what he would suggest.

”Do you like live music?”

She smiled sarcastically. “You’re not going to invite me to one of your concerts are you?”

His laugh was deep, somehow comforting. “I’m not that shameless.” He reassured. “I saw a flyer for an indie band. It might be your thing.”




Yoongi looked up from the gum-littered pavement as Jeong-sun approached the squat exterior of the building. Its facade was painted black and the rock music from inside filtered onto the narrow streets. Stepping away from the doorway to meet her, his eyes roamed a little over her bare legs, visible beneath a knee-length black dress. She had paired it with a pair of ankle boots and a denim jacket; her eyes lined with a little smoky eyeshadow and her hair curled at the ends. She looked a little breathless and clammy as she stepped across the road.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” She apologised, glancing at his blue jeans, black t-shirt and leather jacket as he joined her. “I got a bit lost.” Her gaze lingered on his hair which had been dyed from bleach blonde to a natural black. It suited him, making his small frame seem more delicate beneath his loose-fitting clothes.

He shook his head reassuringly. “The streets are sort of hard to navigate around here. If I’d have thought it through I’d have met you at the bus stop.”

She thought he sounded a little regretful but didn’t dwell on it; her heart-rate was still slowing from the little dash she made through the last couple of streets in an attempt to not be late. She didn’t know why, but the thought of him thinking she had stood him up bothered her.

“You look nice.” He commented casually as she joined him.

“Thanks.” She murmured. “Shall we go in?”

“I already got the tickets.” They headed for the double set of doors, the entrance surprisingly void of any bouncers and, turning to her, he handed her the stub from his jacket pocket. She glanced at the typing.

“Have you seen them before?” She asked, not recognising the name.

“No.” He admitted. “I heard they sing in English.” Pushing through the doors, the volume increased tenfold as the four-piece band on stage, mid-way through a rock song, played through the speakers. The bar was surprisingly full for a weekday, with the wooden dance floor clustered with people. Jeong-sun was un-surprised to find they were mostly men although she spotted a few women in line to the bar, their visible limbs clustered with large sprawls of tattoos.

“You might have to translate for me.” She smiled, raising her voice loudly to be heard over the noise.

“Good luck with that,” Yoongi replied, moving closer to avoid having to shout. “Do you want a drink?”

She thought for a moment, wondering whether she should, being due at work for the afternoon shift the next day. Yoongi waited patiently for her reply and she gave in. “Peroni.” She requested, exaggerating her lip movements to allow him to read them.

He gave a gentle nod before disappearing into the unruly line of people waiting to be served at the bar. Jeong-sun moved away from the crowd, settling naturally towards the back of the room near the fire exit where there was a little more space. The band were white and sang in, what she guessed was a northern English accent. She wondered why they had bothered visiting Korea but thought it made sense that the bar, in a quiet and undeniably run-down part of Seoul, was so busy tonight with the novelty.

Yoongi joined her after a few minutes and handed her the bottle of beer, a wedge of sliced lime poking from the neck. She smiled, observing he was drinking the same and briefly clinked her glass against his before taking a sip. They watched for a few minutes, side by side in silence as one song transitioned into another quieter ballad.

Leaning sideways, she pressed her lips close to his ear. “The guitarist’s really good.” She commented and he nodded in agreement.

“It’s an Oasis cover.” He murmured, still somehow able to be heard above the instruments.

She thought for a moment. “Do you play?”

“Not really.”

She smiled, twisting her body to face him. “I tried to learn. My fingers are too short.” She grumbled, holding up her spare palm with her fingers outstretched.

He flashed a grin, his pink gums visible below his upper lip as he reached out and gently grasped the tips of her fingers, squeezing them lightly before letting go. “They’re fine.” He reassured.

The gesture left her heart racing a little as she pressed on. “What do you play?”


She nodded with a small smile. Feeling bold, she reached across his body and took his spare hand in hers in a move that mirrored his, holding it up to view his long, spindly fingers. “I thought so...” She let go, satisfied. “Do you write your own songs?”

He shrugged, his cheeks pink. The crowded room had started to get a little stifling. “I try. Do you?”

She shook her head simply. “I’m not musical.” She said, turning back to the band as the opening notes of an Arctic Monkeys song she recognised started to play. His eyes lingered on her for a moment before he shifted to watch the group. She couldn’t help but wonder, based on his last comment, whether he had been hoping she was; whether her comment about the internship had given him the wrong impression that they had more in common than she suspected they did. She tried not to think about it, after all, it was just a date.

Another few minutes passed before Jeong-sun turned to face Yoongi, her nose twitching exaggeratedly. “Do you smell weed?” She asked curiously.

Yoongi grinned widely. “Are you an undercover cop?” He joked, his voice breathy with laughter. He had to admit, the scent had started to permeate from the fire exit; an unmistakable odour he immediately recognised.

She shrugged. “No, just a pharmacist.”

Smiling, he took a few steps away from the door. “Do you want to move?” He offered.

“I could do with a breather.” She confirmed, happy to leave the boiling room. He took her hand automatically as they passed through the unyielding crowd in a dash for the exit, guiding her through the sea of bodies and casting little glances to check on her as they approached the narrow, back alley at the opposite end of the bar. She took a few deep breaths of cold, wintery air as they stepped past a couple of smokers on the front step. Yoongi automatically moved away from the cluster of people, dodging a few shards of broken glass as he settled near the metal steps of the fire escape. The weed smokers had gone but the lingering scent filled the air.

“Do you smoke?” Jeong-sun asked, tucking her arms around her body in shelter from the cold.

“Weed?” He frowned.

She grinned, shaking her head. “Tobacco?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes. You?”

“Not really.” She murmured, enjoying the distant sounds of the band as the entrance doors closed behind the group of smokers, heading inside. They were replaced a few moments later by another set, the music growing temporarily louder before falling quiet once more. She preferred the melody when it was muffled a little, able to hear the lyrics better, despite not understanding. “What are you betting they end on Wonderwall?” She asked sarcastically with a smile.

Yoongi grinned, “Ninety percent.” He rubbed his palms together a little beneath the cuffs of his leather jacket, trying to keep warm. “It’s either that or Mr. Brightside.”

Jeong-sun nodded in agreement, tugging her dress down a little at the back as she turned to sit down on a stone step which protruded from the brick and plaster side of the building. Before she could, Yoongi reached out and took both hands in his, encouraging her to her feet. “I wouldn’t sit there...” He protested gently.

“Why?” Her palms lingered on his for a moment before she let go. He nodded past her shoulder, gesturing a little further down the building where a man in his forties was urinating against the side of the wall, shaking his exposed member a little before tucking it back in his loose-fitting trousers.

“Oh...” She murmured, backing away from the bricks as her gaze once more returned the Yoongi, quietly grateful. “Thanks.” She murmured.

He shook his head, eyes briefly falling to the floor. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been here before. I saw the advert in the paper.”

The apologetic tone of his voice took her a little by surprise, making her stomach ache unpleasantly. She smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay.” She thought for a moment, smirking. “It’s a novelty not seeing it inside a jar.”

Yoongi, understanding the reference, flashed her a grin and looked at her beneath his dark, slightly wavy hair. “How long have you been working there?”

She shrugged, trying to remember exactly and failing. “Not long after I left Uni.”

“Where did you go?”

“The University of Seoul.”

“Philosophy major?” He asked, remembering the beginning of their ill-timed conversation in the closet.

She shook her head. “Economics. Philosophy was a subsidiary.”

He nodded, realising after a moment that it made sense; from what he could gauge of her so far, the subject seemed to suit her. “So why pharmaceuticals?” He asked with curiosity.

“The advert came up.” She shrugged unenthusiastically. “It’s a job.”

His gaze was soft as he looked at her across the small space. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” He reassured, sensing that like in the closet, she thought he might be judging her. In truth, he admired her honesty; not everyone was in love with their job. He changed the topic slightly, sensing she was feeling a little awkward. “When did you do your internship?”

She hesitated, thinking. “In my second year of university...over the summer. It was with a friend who studied Music.”

“I did one too before I joined the company.” He replied. “Did you learn a lot?”

“Not really.” She mumbled, making him laugh. “I mainly made tea and coffee.”

“Me too.” He smiled in agreement, remembering what a disappointment the experience had been.

Her shoulders shifted in a sigh as she remembered why he had initially asked for her number. “It’s not that interesting of a story. I’m sorry if that is all you asked me out for.” Her voice was low, slightly sarcastic and he couldn’t help the warm sensation in his stomach when he looked at her slightly brooding features.

“It wasn’t.” He confirmed, taking a step closer to her as he buried both hands in his jean pockets, slumping his shoulders. “You seemed interesting.”

“It didn’t feel that way when the bottle landed on me.” She protested. Yoongi felt his heart sink despite the fact her warm voice indicated she wasn’t bothered. He sensed this hadn’t been the case earlier in the week when the memory was still fresh.

“It wasn’t personal.” He said gently, eyes moving to the pavement.

“Then what was it?” She asked, voice flat.

He shrugged. “It’s a stupid game.” He noticed his own tone of voice was surprisingly stubborn and hesitated. “I didn’t want it to seem like I only thought you were hot because we were paired together.” He admitted slowly.

There was a pause as she realised what he was saying and when she spoke, her question was soft, surprised. “Really?”

He nodded, looking at her sincerely. She met his gaze, unable to help how breathless she felt as it roamed a little over her features before flicking, briefer than brief, down her body. It only lasted a moment; his eyes trailing over the soft swells of her breasts and slightly visible cleavage before moving to her hips and pale legs, but she felt a strong throb between her thighs at the unmistakable craving in his expression. If she had doubted his motives when he had asked for her number at the end of the party, there was no distrust between them now. Blushing, she coughed a little to clear her throat, her exhalation creating a little cloud of mist in the cooling air.

“Do you live with the others?” She asked, her voice a little weak and dry. She remembered the almost-empty bottle of beer she’d discarded on the metal steps of the fire escape and took a few swallows to soothe her throat.

He nodded. “Sometimes. I have my own place...” He paused. “Do you live by yourself?”

She hesitated, remembering the huger in his eyes a few moments before and how unexpectedly horny it had made her. “Yeah.”

“In Eunpyeong-gu?” He asked, remembering the district from the phone book. His comment in connection with her confused thoughts took her by surprise and she forgot for a moment how he knew. Her lips curled up in a smirk when she remembered, but the initial shock had not quite worn off.

“Do you want to know the postcode?” She asked sarcastically.

He smiled gently, a little bashful in realising how forward he sounded. “Sorry...” He apologised in a low, reassuring voice. “I’ve just been there before.”

She pressed her bottle of Peroni to her lips, finishing off the last few sips. “I told my friends where I was going tonight.” She murmured against the glass neck, only half-joking as she glanced sideways at him.

He shrugged. “Good idea. You can’t be too careful.”

His reply filled her with relief and she smiled, stepping forward to head back inside. Her hands were a little numb and she sensed, glancing at his blue-ish coloured protruding knuckles, that he felt the same. She nodded towards his empty glass of beer as he picked it up from the step.

“Do you want another?” She offered, reaching for the door handle and pulling it open. Stepping inside, the electric music blaring through his eardrums and they placed their empty bottles on the edge of the bar to be collected, noticing that the crowd had quietened down considerably in the half-hour they had been standing outside.

“Sure.” He said, leaning closer to be heard above the noise. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

He walked to the other end of the room as Jeong-sun got in line for the bar which was considerably shorter than earlier in the evening. It occurred to her as she shouted her order to the young goth woman serving across the bar, that she had never been on a date before with someone who had let her buy them a drink. Her protests that they at least go dutch had often been met with a firm no or the automatic handing over of a credit card across the bar. Yoongi hadn’t even seemed to notice.

She clutched the pair of bottles closely against her chest, protecting them as she squeezed past a pair of tall men, trying to avoid brushing against them in the narrow space between the bar and a whitewashed beam that held up the ceiling. She spotted Yoongi walking towards her and automatically went to meet him halfway. As she reached his side, being careful not to spill the full drinks, someone pushed past her, heading for the bar and reaching forward, Yoongi steadied her by the waist before she could drop the bottles.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, letting go of her.

She nodded a little embarrassed as she passed him a bottle of Bud Light. “They ran out of Peroni.” She explained, taking a sip of her own.

“Thanks.” He took a few gulps as they moved forward, away from the hustle of the bar. The dance floor was still busy but there was at least room to stand without being bumped into - the band having played most of their biggest numbers earlier in the night.

They watched in comfortable silence, side by side, as the group announced, in English, that they would be finishing their set in ten more minutes. Yoongi just about understood but did not bother translating. It was getting late anyway and he sensed that Jeong-sun was likewise growing a little tired. As Yoongi placed his now-empty bottle of lager on the wooden ledge of the column behind him, the lead guitarist took the time to tune his guitar a little, twisting a few of the dials on the speaker to adjust the echo and volume before counting the rest of the group in. The opening chords of a vibrating, new-wave number began and Jeong-sun grinned, turning to Yoongi.

“I love this song!” She shouted, leaning forward. Her warm breath brushed his ear gently before she pulled away to watch the group. The vocalist had started to sing in a low, melodic voice and Yoongi glanced at Jeong-sun, watching her mouth move in time to the English lyrics as she murmured to the song, tucking her black hair behind her ear as her lips widened, smiling to herself.

Yoongi barely noticed the music as she slowly turned her head to the side to face him, realising he had been looking. Before he knew it, he was caressing her lips with his own, savouring her comforting taste as she slowly responded, opening her mouth gently against him. His hand slipped against her palm, taking the half-finished bottle from between her lose grasp and placing it blindly on the shelf behind him before sliding his fingers through hers, pulling her gently against him as he captured her lower lip. His other hand found itself curling in the back of her soft hair as the kiss intensified; her arms looping around his shoulders, fingertips gently touching the back of his neck. Their tongues met a little timidly; the very tips touching as he let go of her hand to hold her by the hips. Up close, he noticed the faint scent of perfume in her hair and beneath that, the slightly oaty natural smell of her skin. The slow, atmospheric song on stage blared through their ears as they kissed passionately, lips never breaking contact until the closing notes began to play. They moved apart together, naturally, and he couldn’t help but smile shyly as she took a hesitant step backward, realising where they were. The kiss seemed surprisingly intimate for the setting and he had surprised himself with his impatience.

Feeling bashful and turning back to the stage, standing shoulder to shoulder as the bassist plucked the final few, lingering chords, their hands found each other and clasped together silently as the quickly diffusing audience clapped; the song coming to an end. The lead singer stepped forward and thanked the audience for their support to another round of applause and a couple of whoops from the back of the room. Smiling appreciatively, the singer moved to the back of the stage to swap his electric Les Paul for an acoustic guitar and Yoongi grinned as the first few strums, instantly recognisable as Wonderwall, were made.

He turned to Jeong-sun who looked positively smug. “Shall we go?”

Smiling, she nodded a little appreciatively and they made their way out of the building. The cold air outside, despite it being late, was less of a shock to the system, with the bar having cooled down considerably with fewer bodies occupying it. They clutched their jackets to their bodies nonetheless as they made their way across the narrow street and headed towards the main road which would take them into the bordering district of Eunpyeong-gu.

“I’ll walk you home.” Yoongi muttered, his breath turning to steam in the air as they walked side by side.

Jeong-sun turned to look at him between deliberately long strides; them both trying to keep themselves moving in order to stay warm. “Did you know they’d play New Order?” She asked curiously, a small smile playing on her lips.

“No.” He admitted. “Was that what it was?”

She blushed, remembering the warm feel of his lips against hers. Now, her lips just felt a little numb and chapped as the wind picked up. “It’s called Ceremony.”

“Are you a fan?”

She smiled, laughing a little. “I was born a decade too late.” She admitted as they joined the main road, grateful for the working street lamps which lit the way.

“I noticed your T-Shirt at the party.” He murmured, looking ahead at the long stretch of road. “Do you live far?”

She shook her head. “Twenty minutes. I don’t mind walking by myself. I have my rape alarm on me.”

Her reply, while casual, made him shudder. “I don’t mind.” He was quick to reassure. “I just want you to get home safe.” He hesitated, wondering if she didn’t want him to know where she lived. “I could call you a taxi?” He offered.

She shook her head. “We’ll be home by the time it gets here.” Flashing him a small smile, she pressed on. “Besides, the driver won't be as good company as you are.”