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Summary
“Doesn’t bother me,” He shrugs.
Taehyung raises a brow at that, taking a long draw from his cigarette—Jungkook can’t help but let his eyes linger on the way the guitarist’s pretty lips circle the stick, his cheeks pulling in tight to suck. Thoughts of what else Taehyung’s mouth can do plague the sophomore’s mind.
Then, breaking him from thoughts of Taehyung on his knees, said boy blows a giant cloud of smoke directly at Jungkook’s face. His warm breath hits him as the smoky wisps fill his senses, eyes and nose stinging. “How about now?”
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Guess I'm dreaming again (let's be more than this, now)