you nursed a plastic cup of lukewarm soju, leaning against a wall in the crowded hallway, feeling utterly out of place. you weren't an idol, you were a nobody. your friends whom had the connections to enter this party in this first place had dissolved into the sea of dancing bodies over an hour ago with no recent sightings of any of them, and you were seriously considering calling it a night.

that’s when you felt it...a pair of eyes on you, so intense it was like physical touch. you glanced up, your breath catching in your throat and forming a knot of anxiety. it was jimin. park jimin, the guy who had a reputation that preceded him. a dazzling smile, a dancer’s grace, and a notorious ability to have anyone he wanted wrapped around his little finger. you’d had a few dance classes together when you had a phase of stupidly believing you could become an idol yourself, but nothing more. until tonight.

he was leaning against the opposite wall, one hand shoved in the pocket of his designer jeans, the other holding a drink. he wasn’t looking at the idol trying to flirt with him, or his members he saw as brothers laughing nearby. he was looking directly at you. his gaze was heavy, lidded, and held a predatory glint that sent a shiver down your spine despite the warm, stuffy air of the house. he slowly raised his cup to his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he took a sip. it was a question, a challenge, an invitation all rolled into one.

your heart hammered against your ribs. you knew what that look meant. you gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod, breaking eye contact for a second to stare down into your cup as if it held the solution on how to get out of this situation before you somehow managed to embarrass yourself and scare him off. when you looked back up, a slow, confident smirk was playing on his lips. he pushed off the wall and began to move, not towards you, but down the hallway, towards the single bathroom at the end.

your stomach did a flip. you were cursing yourself for what you were about to do. reckless, stupid... you told yourself. but your feet were already moving, carrying you away from the safety of the wall and through the throng of people. each step felt charged with electric anticipation, the bottom of your feet vibrating as you walked. you reached the bathroom door just as he was about to knock, his knuckles hovering an inch from the wood.

“going in?” he asked, his voice a low, smooth murmur that was far quieter than the music but seemed to cut right through it.

“was just heading there,” you managed, your voice sounding breathless to your own ears.

the door swung open, a couple stumbling out giggling, and jimin seized the opportunity. he placed a hand flat on the small of your back, a firm, proprietary touch that sent a jolt straight through you, and guided you into the small space before following you in. he clicked the lock into place, the sound loud and final in the sudden silence.

the bathroom was small and messy. a damp towel was crumpled on the floor, and the counter was littered with makeup and empty bottles. but you didn’t see any of it. all you could see, all you could feel, was him. he was close, so close you could feel the warmth radiating from his body, smell the clean, spicy scent of his cologne mixed with a hint of soju on his breath. was this all just drunk courage? a sloppy plan to hookup with someone nobody knew existed?

“so,” he breathed, his eyes dark and unreadable in the dim light. he didn’t give you a chance to reply. his hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking over your bottom lip. “you’ve been watching me all night.”

it wasn’t a question. it was a statement of fact. you could only nod, your throat too dry to form words. a slow, predatory smile spread across his face.

“good,” he murmured, and then his lips were on yours.

it wasn’t a gentle kiss. it was demanding and hungry. his mouth moved against yours with practiced expertise, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips until you parted them with a soft gasp. he took full advantage, his tongue delving into your mouth to explore and dominate. one of his hands tangled in your hair, gripping it just enough at the roots to send a delicious, sharp pang of pleasure-pain through you, tilting your head back to give him better access. your hands, unsure of what to do, came to rest on his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. he was solid and real and overwhelming.

he broke the kiss, both of you breathing heavily. he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed for a moment. when he opened them, the intensity there made your knees feel weak.

“on your knees,” he commanded, his voice low and firm, leaving no room for argument.

it was the tone more than the words that made you obey instantly. it was a voice used to being obeyed. you sank to the floor, the cool tiles pressing through the thin fabric of your jeans. the position felt inherently submissive, and a fresh wave of arousal washed over you, hot and sharp. you looked up at him from under your lashes, your hands resting on your thighs.

he watched you, his expression one of dark satisfaction. he reached down, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw again before hooking under your chin. “look at you,” he said, almost to himself. “so pretty like this.” he took a step closer, his crotch now level with your face. “you know what to do.”

your fingers trembled slightly as you reached for the button of his jeans. the sound of his zipper lowering seemed impossibly loud in the small room. you freed him, and your eyes widened slightly at the sight. he was already hard, thick and heavy in your hand. you leaned forward, your tongue darting out to taste the bead of moisture at the tip. a low hiss escaped him, his hand tightening in your hair.

“don’t tease,” he warned, his voice strained.

you didn’t. you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head before taking him deeper. you set a rhythm, bobbing your head, your hand working what you couldn’t take. he began to move his hips, thrusting gently into your mouth, his grip on your hair guiding you, controlling the pace. the sounds he was making...low groans, sharp intakes of breath; were the only things that mattered. you felt powerful in your submission, knowing you were the one causing those sounds, even if you weren't the first.

“enough,” he grunted after a few minutes, pulling you back by your hair. he helped you to your feet, his hands immediately going to the hem of your shirt. he lifted it over your head in one smooth motion, his eyes roaming over the exposed skin of your torso. his touch was soft but possessive as he traced the line of your bra strap. “this too.”

you reached behind your back and unclasped it, letting it fall to the floor. his hands were on you instantly, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples until they pebbled into tight, sensitive points. he leaned down, taking one into his mouth, sucking and flicking it with his tongue while his other hand kneaded the other. you arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips.

he straightened up, his hands moving to your jeans, deftly undoing the button and zipper. he pushed them down, along with your underwear, until they pooled around your ankles pathetically. he hooked a foot behind your knee and kicked your legs wider apart, leaving you completely exposed to his gaze with nowhere to hide.

“bend over,” he ordered, gesturing towards the small countertop sink. “hands on the edge.”

you complied, bracing your hands on the cool porcelain. you were bent over at the waist, your back arched, your ass presented to him in a way that was both vulnerable and incredibly arousing. you could hear the rustle of a foil packet, the tear of it opening, and then the slick sound of him rolling on a condom. you felt him behind you, the heat of his body a comforting, terrifying presence.

he ran a hand down your spine, his touch light and teasing, making you shiver. his fingers dipped between your legs, finding you slick and ready. he circled your clit a few times, just enough to make you whimper with need, before positioning himself.

“ready?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper.

you could only nod, your forehead pressed against the mirror, your breath creating fog against it.

he pushed into you in one slow, relentless stroke. the stretch was intense, a full sensation that stole your breath. he gave you a moment to adjust, his hands gripping your hips, his thumbs stroking the skin there. then he began to move.

he set a punishing pace from the start, his hips snapping against yours, each thrust driving you forward against the sink. the small room was filled with the sounds of your bodies meeting, his ragged breathing, and your own choked cries of pleasure. one of his hands left your hip, snaking around to find your clit again. he rubbed tight, fast circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves, and you felt your orgasm building with terrifying speed.

you resisted an orgasm, shutting your eyes with pleasure as you took him in. you didn't expect him to feel this good, but it was addicting already. finishing meant it was over. you could feel him twitch inside of you, an indication that he too was resisting the urge to cum so soon and suddenly. he didn't want it to be over either.

“come for me,” he demanded after a few moments, his voice harsh with his own impending release. “let me feel you.”

his words, combined with the intense stimulation, were your undoing. your vision went blurry as your orgasm took over you, a powerful, convulsive wave that left you shaking and gasping for air.

his followed soon after, the slickness of your own cum coating him pulling him into a full orgasm. he grunted, his body shaking against yours as he came into the condom. he fully rested himself over you, his eyes shut and his face buried into your back as he panted.

nobody moved. you both stood there, enjoying the skin to skin contact with each other. he went soft inside of you, but he still had no desire to pull out just yet.

the sound of a loud knock on the bathroom door made you both flinch. “anyone in there?” a loud drunken voice from the other side of the door shouted out. you both scrambled to get redressed before whipping the door open. a random drunk girl pushed past both you in drunken annoyance, heading for the toilet.

you shuffled out, his hand in yours. you felt him let go, his fingers escaping through yours. he looked at you with a look that told him he didn't want to part ways yet. it seemed like he was studying your face as to not forget how you looked. he wanted to remember every feature of you incase he saw you again.