Jungkook's smirk grows. " Sure. Pool after?" he asks, nodding at the now vacant pool table.
" Should we bet on it?"
His eyebrows quirk up. " Interesting. What are we betting on?"
Jimin stands up out of his chair and stretches. " If you win, bar tab is on me for the next month."
" And if you win?"
Jimin knows his smile is downright devilish. Jungkook rolls his eyes. " I get to dye your hair whatever colour I want."
Jungkook snorts. " And now why would I ever allow that?"
" You have no need to be afraid if you're confident in your pool playing abilities." He winks playfully, and Jungkook groans.
" I hate you. Fine. Deal. But you're gonna be sorry when you're broke as shit by the end of next month. I don't plan on just ordering drinks. I'm getting some nachos, too."
Jimin barks out a laugh in his way to the bar. " Doubt it," he calls over his shoulder and saunters off to purchase shots of Tequila. Once they're added to the tab, he carries them back, balancing them in his hands, careful not to spill, and places them on the edge of the pool table, the glasses leaving circle- shaped ringlets of condensation on the wood. For a minute, Jimin thinks about moving them, but upon observation, figures the owner of the bar won't mind.
The pool table has seen better days, clearly. There are dents and scratches all along the wood, patches of missing felt at either side of the table - presumably from where drunk patrons dig their cues into the surface of the table, missing the ball entirely, and one of the pockets hanging down is missing entirely. He gestures towards the missing pocket and Jungkook laughs.
" I mean, look where we are. Did you expect anything else?"
He smiles and shrugs, handing Jungkook a shot. " Bottoms up, friend."
They take their shots together and Jungkook stacks the shot glasses while Jimin chalks his cue. " Ladies first," he tells Jungkook.
Jungkook walks over to the end of the table, swaying his hips so exaggeratedly when he struts that Jimin can't help but laugh, and bends down to line up his cue stick with the cue ball. The break is even and two stripes sink into two separate pockets.
" Guess that makes me solids," Jimin says, cracking his knuckles.
" It appears that way." Jungkook continues to make shot after shot, three more stripes making their way into the corner pockets until he finally misses.
Christ. Jimin is too poor to pay their tab for the next month. He can't risk losing. Not when his bank account is on the line. He needs to take drastic measures. He's going to have to distract Jungkook in order to win. And fuck, if he doesn't want to see his beat friend sporting pink hair until temporary dye fades out.
It's time to act!
He rolls his shoulders and lines his cue up in a way he knows looks ridiculous. His knees are bent, his arm is way too straight, and he knows there's absolutely no way he could ever make a shot in this position. He's not proud of his plan, but damn it, he is not funding Jungkook's bar habits for the next 30 days.
" Hey, um, Jungkook? How do you shoot pool?"
Jungkook has to know he isn't serious. There's no way Jimin would make a bet if he was completely unprepared. But if Jimin knows Jungkook - and he does - he knows that Jungkook will play along. He always plays along with Jimin. And Jimin knows this is slightly unfair on his part, because he's well aware of what Jungkook's type is, and he knows he's it. Jungkook's track record shows that his preference consists of dark eyes, quick wit, and a fantastic ass. He's going to flirt. He's going to flirt hard.
It's a little mean. And it's a lot stupid.
But it's going to give him the win. Purely by the art of distraction. And because he always gets what he wants. End of story.
Jungkook stares dumbly. " What."
" I need your help." He bites at his bottom lip and smiles.
" Why would I help you?"
Jimin pretends to pout, but he can tell Jungkook is already giving in. " I haven't played in years and I completely forget how to hold the cue. Just give me a quick refresher." He purses his lips. " Let's be real, you're obviously going to win, seeing as I can barely hold this stick the right way. Look, please."
It's a weak argument, and it wouldn't make sense under any sober circumstances, but Jungkook must be tipsy enough that it works. " Okay. Fine." He makes his way around to Jimin's side of the table and takes the cue from Jimin's hands. " Did you see how I was balancing it in my fingers?"
Jimin nods. " Yeah, but show me anyway."
Jungkook huffs our a breath but Jimin can tell he's anything but annoyed. Predictable Jeon Jungkook.
What he does next, however, was not what Jimin was anticipating.
Instead of demonstrating using his own hands, Jungkook stands behind Jimin and wraps his arms around him, guiding his arms into position. Jimin can feel his breath, hot and even, when he hooks his chin over Jimin's shoulder. " When you push the cue forward, you want your motions to be steady. If you're too forceful, you're not going to have much control over your ball." Jungkook moves closer in, his chest pressed up firmly against Jimin's back.
And Jimin is pissed. Somehow, he's being bested at his own game. He's losing focus. He needs to fight back. He arches his back a bit, his ass pushing up against Jungkook in all the right spots, and he feels Jungkook's breath stutter out of him. Better. " So, should I bend over like this?" He demonstrates by bending over slightly, and Jungkook's hands instantly reach out to grab at his hips.
" It's not necessary, but if you feel like it works for you, by all means, continue."
Jimin swallows. " Feels good to me."
Jungkook's hands grip tighter. " Yeah. Me, too."
He can feel Jungkook's muscles flexing when he inhales harshly, and then when he drags his hands up Jimin's sides, placing his hands over Jimin's. For fucks sake, focus. " Okay, step back, I'll take my shot."
Jungkook pauses for a moment, almost reluctantly, and steps backwards, his hands slipping off Jimin's body. " Shoot."
Jimin does. The solid red ball sinks into the left corner pocket. " How was that?"
Jungkook whistles. " Looks like I'm a good teacher.
He winks. " I'll say." Making his way around the table, he surveys the remaining balls, and decides to go for the solid green. It sinks into the centre right pocket easily. The yellow and orange follow suit, then maroon and purple. He hasn't said anything, hasn't looked up from the table yet, but once it's just the 8 ball left on the patchy green felt, he knows he needs to see the look on Jungkook's face.
Jungkook is standing there with his arms crossed, his torn Rolling Stones t-shirt riding up slightly, his brows furrowed. His facial expression is cross between pissed, confused, amused and Jungkook.
Jimin bursts out laughing. " What's with the face, Jeon?"
He looks down at his shoes, and then back up at Jimin, running his fingers through his hair. " I think...I think I've been hustled," he stammers out.
" I think you're right. Corner left pocket." He shoots and the 8 ball rolls into the corner left pocket, sinking in beautifully.
" Christ, Park!"
Jimin laughs again and hangs the pool stick back up on the wall where Jungkook retrieved them from. He walks over to Jungkook slowly, making sure he's watching Jimin's every move.
He is.
He stops just inches in front of Jungkook and reaches for one of his
Strands of hair and tugs on one lightly. " I was originally thinking I wanted vibrant shade of pink, but maybe teal would be nice."
Jungkook smirks and reaches up to cover his hand over Jimin's. " Teal, really?"
" Maybe blue. Or purple. I'm still thinking about it."
" Please be kind."
Jimin shrugs. " We'll see."
Three days later, Jimin has Jungkook's head in the sink, and the bright blue dye is staining the porcelain.
It's worth it.