You were beyond excited.

It was d-day already (if you could use the word in that sense) and you couldn't wait to be a hoe.

Okay, that sounded wrong.

Let me rephrase that.

You couldn't wait to try to live your life to the fullest—well that or make up for lost years of fun. That's what Jimin called it, anyway, dubbing it as a 'higher form of flirting'.

Apparently, it was a pool party, and in your roommate's opinion, the perfect way to socialize. And also, it was going to be in his rich-as-hell friend's penthouse. Which was perfectly normal. Everyone has a penthouse.

After you'd convinced your roommate to not buy the stripper outfit, you had chosen a simple but sexy one instead (with the expertise of Park Jimin, of course). It was a black bikini, and it was alluring enough to make people forget about your inexperience. In his words.

You woke up pretty early that day, despite barely having had enough sleep the previous night.

"Jimin!" You skipped happily to his room, which was always unlocked, grinning in pure joy—which, granted, wasn't your usual mood. "It's time to wake up!"

"Mh, Y/N." Jimin groaned in his sleepy, husky voice that excited the unwilling butterflies in your stomach. "It's too early."

"Nope." Tilting your head with a light pout, you tried another tactic. "Jimin, please get up."

"No."

You rolled your eyes before jumping on his bed, making the sheets fly in the air. "I told you—"

Before you could even blink, Jimin was on top of you, flipping you over and trapping you between the bed and his bare chest, his muscular arms on either side of you. "What did I say?" He growled. "Let me sleep."

You gulped, good mood gone. "Uh, yeah." You laughed nervously, frantically nodding. "Whatever you want."

"That's what I thought." He narrowed his eyes, before letting you go and burrowing his face in the sheets once again.

“Well, that wasn't nice,” you grumbled, pushing yourself off the bed and scrambling out of the best  of sheets. “Next time, you're getting a knee up your groin.”

“That's not what you were saying just now.” He snorted into the pillow. "So try your best.”

|

Stupid bitchass, you thought with a pout as you made your way to the elevator. Dumb idiot.

"Don't look at me like that." Jimin rolled his eyes as he got on next to you.

"Like what?"

"Like you're mentally cussing me out." He raised an eyebrow, pressing a button on the panel. "Honestly!"

The day couldn't have been longer, with your first proper party waiting for you after the two classes you had. Jimin seemed close to bored, almost unwilling to let you go or attend it himself, despite it being organized by his supposed friends.

But then, he guessed it would be better if he was around so that you could be safe and manage to enjoy yourself, to a certain extent, at the same time. Then maybe you could handle your shots on your own.

You scowled at him. "You totally deserve it, though."

He rolled his eyes, sighing heavily as if he was in a Shakespearean drama. “You have everything, right?”

“Condoms?”

With wide eyes, he turned to you, looking as if you had just hit him across the face with a baseball bat. “Not that fast.”

“I know, I'm just kidding.” You gave him a look. “But we still haven't progressed from lesson two—and I'm beginning to feel you were just playing around with me.”

The words weren't meant to be very serious, but Jimin's eyebrows furrowed. “Hey, I wouldn't do that,” he said, defending himself with a slightly upset tone. “What do you think I am?”

“A fuckboy?”

“Oh, so apparently they don't have values.” He rolled his eyes, pushing back his silvery hair from his eyes. “How lowly you think of me.”

“Dude, I was just playing around.” You rolled your eyes again, this time with more feeling. “You're sensitive as heck.”

He frowned a bit at that, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall of the elevator. The atmosphere was quieter for a few more seconds, until the lift shuddered to a stop and the doors slid open.

“What if I said that to you?” He asked, his tone sounding contemplative.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“That you're sensitive,” he answered, raising an eyebrow in your direction, uncrossing his arms and pausing for a moment. “Would you appreciate that?”

Stunned, and still a little thrown, you shook your head. “I guess not. I…guess.”

He was already a few paces in front of you, the cool night wind ruffling his shirt and tousling his pretty silver hair, making it reflect the pale moonlight. “Lesson number three,” he said, the muscles of his back rippling under the slightly tight material, “sensitivity isn't always a bad thing.”

That made your forehead crease. You shook your head again, more to yourself, kind of mystified by the sudden change in his demeanor as the two of you made your way to where his friends were waiting in the car.

“Hey,” a good-looking guy spoke up from the driver's seat, slight dimples popping up on his cheeks as he spoke. “I’m Namjoon, as Jimin may or may not have told you...but hop right in.”

You offered him a friendly smile as Jimin slipped into the shotgun seat, not missing the way the gaze of the unknown dark-haired boy in the backseat followed your movements. “I thought there were seven of you guys.”

“Yeah, Jin dragged Yoongi and Seok with him earlier, so he wouldn't have to be the designated driver this time,” Taehyung said, before grinning. “I'm glad you could come.”

“Of course,” you spoke, but faltered as you noticed how small the backseat seemed when two well-muscled men were occupying it. “But...where am I supposed to sit?”

Namjoon looked back, surprise flashing across his strong features. “Oh. Oh,” he exclaimed softly. “I thought there'd be more space. Kook, can't you scoot over a little? We're kinda short of space here.”

But even as the unnamed boy moved a little to the side, you saw that there was no way you'd be able to sit without being crushed to an uncomfortable death. Which meant…

“Taehyung?” You questioned, voice rising awkwardly and a bit teasingly.

"Would you mind if I sat in your lap?" You asked as politely as physically possible.

Taehyung blinked, swallowing harshly before nodding. "Uh, I..." He smiled nervously. "Sure."

You smiled back, if a bit uncomfortably, as you slid into his lap.

Jimin gave you a knowing smile in the reflection of the rearview mirror.

The ride was mostly peaceful, save for the stuffy atmosphere that had built inside the car because of a stranger being in the midst of otherwise regular company.

It was a long one, about half an hour, as Yoongi's penthouse was pretty far from the apartment. You didn't complain, and the other boys—except for Taehyung and Namjoon—were already half-woozy from boredom.

The boys had introduced themselves to you, with minimum pick up lines, so you weren't too awkward.

You sat comfortably in Taehyung's lap, though he himself seemed to be somewhat tense. You thought your butt on him was uncomfortable, but the real reason was that he did not want to get too...excited.

But fate had other plans.

You squirmed a lot, trying to find the most normal (ahem) position to sit in.

That, naturally, made things harder for Taehyung.

Literally.

Ultimately, you gave up, resting your back on his chest, shivering when his breath brushed your neck. He seemed unnaturally tense when you shifted once again.

And froze when his arms closed on either side of you.

"Y/N." Taehyung spoke suddenly, voice weak. "C-could you n-not move?"