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"Is Jimin still in hair and makeup?" Jeongguk asks no one in particular, knee bouncing unconsciously as he scans the waiting room from the couch.
"Mhm." Hoseok hums without looking up from his phone. "His stomach wasn't feeling too good, so he went in last." He glances at the analog clock mounted on the wall. "Should be out soon enough."
Jeongguk eyes the same clock, clicking his tongue as he takes note of the time. "He's going to be late," he mumbles quietly, chewing on his bottom lip. "Why is he taking so long, it's not like his face needs much prepping." Hoseok only raises an eyebrow at that, faint smile playing at the corners of his lips as his attention is pulled back to his phone.
Jeongguk startles when he feels hands landing heavily on his shoulders. His head whips around, coming face to face with a smirking Taehyung.
"Our Jeonggukkie always gets so restless without Jimin around," he singsongs, sidestepping gracefully to avoid Jeongguk's grabbing hands. "Don't worry, he'll be out soon—his extensions are giving him trouble."
"’His extensions’?" Jeongguk parrots, bouncing to his feet to face Taehyung. "Wait, he's wearing extensions again? Didn't he take them out after the comeback live?"
"I felt naked without them, so I asked Naejoo-hyung to put them back in," an ever-familiar voice responds from somewhere behind him.
Whatever reply Jeongguk had in mind dies on his tongue the moment he turns around and takes in the figure standing before him.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Jeongguk can feel his brain short-circuit—he's left completely tongue-tied and his vision tunnels, world narrowing dangerously. Distantly, a memory resurfaces, a moment from his past that is often quoted by fans as a meme—"I know movie, but I don't know movie name".
Except here, Jeongguk knows words, but he's not sure he knows how to use them anymore.
He vaguely registers Taehyung brushing past him, voice barely coming through the rush of blood in his ears but he hears enough.
Something something new look, something ponytail, something nice, suits you—the words echo faintly, as if he's hearing them from underwater.
'Nice?' The very small part of his brain that is still capable of coherent thoughts bristles, indignant. Nice was putting it lightly—rudely, if Jeongguk had any say. Beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, celestial, sublime, ethereal… so many words that would have been far more appropriate.
As his thoughts continue to come up with descriptors, he sees Taehyung's fingers twirling around long blond hair, strands wrapping—oh god—loosely around long fingers.
Suddenly, Jeongguk’s mind is consumed by unbridled, forbidden images—images of long tresses wrapped messily around his fingers, delicate neck arching back as he tugs, plump lips parting around—
Jeongguk feels like he's choking.
His continued silence does not go unnoticed for much longer as Jimin peeks around Taehyung to look at him.
"Jeongguk? Everything okay?" he asks, concern colouring his voice.
Jeongguk startles, coming back to himself.
"Yeah," he croaks before clearing his throat. "Totally fine, just, erm. Yeah,” he finishes lamely, flushing in embarrassment.
Jimin blinks, eyebrows furrowing. He makes his way past Taehyung to stand in front of Jeongguk, peering up into his eyes before cupping the back of Jeongguk's neck to bring his forehead down against his own.
Jeongguk chokes for real this time, jerking himself free of Jimin’s hold and backing away hastily as his face flushes traitorously.
Neither notice Taehyung's barely muffled guffaws.
Jimin frowns, pretty lips downturned and oh god, the way his lower lip juts out is doing numbers on Jeongguk’s sanity.
"You're heating up, are you sure you're fine?"
How does Jeongguk even begin to explain that yeah, he's just peachy! Never been better! In fact, he’s so good that all he can think about is how delicious Jimin looks in a ponytail and that he wants nothing more than to bend him over the nearest surface and fuck him seven times an hour—or whatever it is that he says in Seven—but hey, that would be a terrible idea because they need to be on stage soon and he needs to make sure he’s not going up with a fucking boner.
It genuinely does not help that the stylists put Jimin in a black leather jacket with a white stripe running along the arms and shoulders that instantly reminded Jeongguk of his 3D outfit. Something akin to possessiveness rumbles in the pit of his stomach. He balls his fists at his sides, mentally repeating the Hooligan lyrics like a mantra in the hopes of distracting himself.
“I’m fine,” he says instead, doing his best to steady his voice in the hopes of sounding more reassuring. He doesn’t think he does a very good job, if Jimin’s expression is anything to go by.
Jimin blinks, thankfully not pushing the issue any further. Instead, he tilts his head, ponytail swaying teasingly behind him—it’s infuriating, really, how something as simple as a hairstyle can occupy Jeongguk’s thoughts so thoroughly, as long as it’s from Jimin.
“So?”
It’s Jeongguk’s turn to blink owlishly.
“So what?”
Jimin rolls his eyes, smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“The hair, how’s the hair?” he clarifies with a knowing smile. “I didn’t have enough time to properly style it, so I asked the stylists to put it up into a ponytail instead—it also fits today’s outfit better.”
Alarms blare in Jeongguk’s head but he’s too late—before he can make his escape, Jimin’s already grabbed his hand and brought it to his ponytail, holding it steady until Jeongguk’s traitorous fingers wrap around the loose strands on their own. A strangled groan threatens to escape his chest as his fingers flex on their own accord, tugging at Jimin’s hair slightly and causing him to gasp quietly, mouth parting slightly in surprise.
Jeongguk freezes—oh fuck.
Oh shit.
Oh no.
That’s one sound that is certainly going straight down towards somewhere it most certainly should not.
Feeling almost hysterical, Jeongguk’s eyes dart frantically around the room, searching for something, anything that can save him. His prayers are answered in the shape of one Kim Namjoon, who enters the room with a loud clap, commandeering everyone’s attention.
“Ok guys, gather up! We’re heading out in 10,” he announces as everyone begin to shuffle out of the waiting room.
Jeongguk closes his eyes as he breathes out a sigh of relief, trying to gather himself before following the rest of the members through the door.
Unfortunately for him, his relief is short-lived as he bumps into something—someone?—solid.
His eyes fly open even as his hands come up to steady Jimin.
“I’ll take it you really like the hair?” Jimin smiles, eyes lidded in a way that sends a spark down Jeongguk’s spine and makes his nape tingle.
“I’ll make sure to ask Naejoo-hyung to keep it on even after the show then,” Jimin murmurs languidly into Jeongguk’s ear before pulling away with a wink and going out the door, leaving Jeongguk to contemplate his existence in the now-empty room.