He’s made a few Piña Coladas for everyone, but not for himself, can’t have Jeongguk’s tongue swelling up if they get to kiss again tonight.
So while everyone is standing around the barbecue like neighbourhood dads, engaging in conversation and drinks, he finds Jeongguk still in the pool, swimming laps.
He blinks, but it doesn’t seem the others think it’s out of the ordinary.
“He said he didn’t get his cardio in.” Jin chuckles, shakes his head. “Who would do half an hour of cardio on barbecue night?”
“He’s always like that, if you’re wondering.”
Yoongi says.
He was actually wondering.
It’s cute really, he likes his guys a bit peculiar.
“I’ll give him a refreshment.”
He excuses himself, pretends he doesn’t hear Jin call behind him to give Jeongguk a sip of piña colada.
No, he made sex on the beach this time, yes, because of the name.
If he stares a little longer at Jeongguk’s back muscles while he swims a lap, no one notices. Or maybe everyone does, who cares. He’ll deal with Jin later.
Jeongguk notices his looming presence another lap later, blinks his stupid pretty brown eyes.
Jimin holds out his drink.
“Want a sip?”
Wow, that went great. He didn’t even stutter or anything. Maybe cursed speech is finally over.
Jeongguk nods, swims up to him, puts his hands on the edge of the pool and lifts his upper body out of the water, looks at him expectantly.
He’s a little distracted by.. well, everything about that sight. the water dripping down Jeongguk’s body, his arm muscles flexing, and the look in his eyes. The way he doesn’t speak but just nods at the drink in his hand.
Jimin snaps out of it, looks down at his glass, the straw in it, and it clicks.
“Oh, right, let me just—“
He brings the straw to Jeongguk’s lips, and it’s a mistake.
If valves were bad, this is a hundred percent worse. Jeongguk wraps his lips around the straw, those silver rings catch the light, and he can’t help but relive the feeling of them grazing over his lower lip.
But it’s not only that, Jeongguk looks at him while he does it. No innocence behind those big brown eyes, all Jimin can detect is that intense withheld hunger.
A rush of arousal licks down his spine, and his dick twitches.
Jeongguk lets the straw slip out of his mouth then, but stares at him a little longer.
He’s usually the best at flirting, this is supposed to be his turf, but he can’t breathe. And if he stays here any longer he’s going to actually sport a semi and Jin won’t let that slide.
“Good— uh— good luck with the water.”
He manages, then makes a beeline straight to the kitchen, pinches the bridge of his nose and groans.
Good luck with the water.
Just kill him.
He goes straight for the vodka bottle, pours it into his cup until the ratio is 1/6 sex on the beach 5/6 vodka, the way it ought to be.
He takes a big sip, avoids the straw just in case, feels it burn down his throat, distracts him from his aura loss for about three full seconds.
“Hyung.”
Oh no.