—"But wouldn't an eyebrow piercing look badass?"

≣

"Where the hell did you wander off to?"

"I should ask you the same question," Jungkook said into his phone, giving in to the heaviness of his limbs and sagging against his ultra-plush couch. He tried not to blink; if he so much as closed his eyes, he would fall asleep within seconds. "You dragged me to a bar then disappeared the second we stepped inside. What kind of mentor are you?"

An inelegant snort sounded through the receiver. "I'm the best mentor you'll ever have. You should be grateful for me."

"The best mentor? How do you figure?" Jungkook would probably get an earful for asking a question like that, but he wanted a temporary diversion. He needed something mindless and stupid to save his brain from turning into mush.

And, fortunately for him, that was precisely what he got.

"How do I figure? I help you prepare for your investment pitches. I make you take lunch breaks and literally force you to leave the office each night. Hell, I'm even talking to you right now. If that doesn't make me the greatest mentor out there, I don't know what would."

"Great mentors don't ditch their mentees in a crowded bar and leave them to fend for themselves. That's, like, rule number one of mentorship," Jungkook replied with a soft chuckle. "But don't worry, Jin hyung. I'll forgive you if you buy me lunch in the morning."

Jin — who, despite Jungkook's teasing, was truly a fantastic mentor — let out another snort. "Buy you lunch?"

"Greatest mentor out there, right?"

"You're lucky I like you, kid."

Lucky was an understatement. When Jungkook first arrived in Seoul, he innocently believed that his colleagues would be collaborative, helpful, and friendly. He had assumed that they'd all become fast friends both inside and outside the office, commiserating about their hellish jobs and creating shared experiences only they would understand. But, along with everything else surrounding his new promotion, Jungkook had been wrong.

To put it nicely, his new coworkers were terrible.

Each one of his new teammates possessed obnoxiously large egos — probably to compensate for lack of something else — and couldn't do anything productive besides brag about their own accomplishments. They all sported an unhealthy combination of arrogance and assurance, making them untrustworthy at best and backstabbing at worst. And sure enough, they were the first to steal an opportunity right out of a coworker's hands and the last to offer assistance of any kind.

That all would've been manageable, of course, if Jungkook had formed an ego to match. He had assumed that he'd become bold by association, that he'd quickly develop a similar sense of self-importance. But, surprise, he didn't. Even after these last six months of settling into his promotion, he still hadn't impressed — or intimidated, for that matter — his new coworkers enough for them to back off. No . . . They were always waiting for Jungkook to mess up so they could one-up him.

But not Jin.

From the day Jin was assigned as Jungkook's mentor, the older male took it upon himself to become the best resource possible. He gave guidance when needed, provided feedback where warranted, and offered encouragement each step of the way. And yeah, sure, Jin loved gloating about some of his most significant achievements every now and then, though he made sure to use those successes as teaching moments for Jungkook as well.

So Jungkook was incredibly lucky to have a colleague and mentor — a friend — like Jin. Without the older male, he would've been all on his own in this big and unknown city.

Jungkook probably should've shared that gratitude and appreciation with his mentor, but he instead said, "So, are you going to tell me why you ditched me?"

"I didn't ditch you on purpose," Jin started. "I ran into one of my clients as I was getting a drink. And you know our company's policy, Kook. If we see a client outside of the office, we offer to buy them a round. And if the conversation is going well, we—"

"We keep the drinks coming. Yeah, I know," Jungkook cut him off, a twinge of resentment coloring his tone. His job's constant need to network, to put business first and relaxation last, was not something he had warmed up to yet.

But it was pointless to focus on that now, so he shook his head and asked Jin, "Are you still working?"

"I wouldn't be talking to you if I wasn't," Jin answered. And sure enough, there was a distinct clicking and clacking in the background, a familiar melody of keys punching against a keyboard. Knowing the older male, he was most likely trying to finish a project of his own.

"Why do we do this to ourselves? Working all hours of the night can't be normal."

A soft sigh was Jin's first response, followed by, "Hate to break it to you, Kook, but this is very normal for our field. And it's— Hold on."

Muffled voices filtered through the phone, their words too distant and low for Jungkook to interpret. If he didn't know any better, he'd assume Jin had a special someone staying the night. But Jungkook did know better; his friend worked harder and later than anyone else in their office. There was no time for dalliances during the workweek.

After a couple of more seconds, Jin returned to the call and huffed, "I'm getting yelled at by the roomie. He says I'm an inconsiderate ass for treating the kitchen like my personal office and that I need to relocate to my bedroom."

Ah, the infamous roommate. Jungkook didn't know too much about the guy, just that he and Jin had lived together for a few years and were rarely in the apartment at the same time. Jin had always claimed that was for the better; apparently, the guy constantly invited different people into his bedroom without shame or remorse. Jungkook didn't have to ask questions to know what that meant — he could read between the lines.

But there was one thing that never made sense to Jungkook, so he figured there was no time like the present to ask. "Why do you still have a roommate? You make more money than me . . . If I can afford to live alone, so can you."

"I don't know," Jin said in a quieter tone. "I've roomed with the guy for a while. I can't just kick him out."

"Sure you can."

"No, really, I can't. But anyway, shouldn't you have finished that project by now? It's almost two in the morning."

Shit, Jungkook hadn't realized it was that late. That meant that he'd spent the last three hours hunched over his laptop, racing to complete everything before sunrise. And he still wasn't done yet; he had at least thirty minutes left to go.

Leaning closer to his overly bright computer screen, Jungkook typed in the website for a local twenty-four-seven restaurant. If motivation and work ethic alone couldn't get him to wrap up his project, maybe some barbeque would.

"Jungkook?"

"I needed a break. I was beginning to lose my mind," Jungkook replied, finally answering his mentor's question. He quickly placed an online order, grateful that his internet browser auto-filled his credit card number and personal information. He couldn't afford to expend any other mental energy at this point. "I just . . . I need to do something fun."

"Did you miss the part where I said it's two in the morning?" Jin asked with a laugh, the sound a cross between amusement and disbelief. "There's not much you can do right now. Besides, I know you. Your definition of fun usually means doing something drastic."

"That's not true. It just means that there will be lots of adrenaline involved."

"Adrenaline . . .? Don't tell me you're planning on getting another tattoo. Didn't you just finish your sleeve?"

Jungkook smiled down at his arm, which showcased a series of interconnected black designs. The artwork was one of his most prized possessions, and he hated having to cover up its beauty with long-sleeve button-downs. "I did. And nah, I'm not getting another tattoo. At least, not at the moment. But wouldn't an eyebrow piercing look badass?"

"You can't wear an eyebrow piercing to work, Kook," Jin gently reminded him, his tone veering towards the apologetic side.

Jungkook's smile slowly dropped. He couldn't show his tattoos. He couldn't wear his earrings or get another piercing. He couldn't display any freedom of expression whatsoever. Just like that guy at the bar had said, every single finance guy was exactly the fucking same.

It was true. They were all the same, and Jungkook wanted no part of it. But this was his life. He wasn't able to be himself, not truly. Not fully. Not like that guy — that stranger whose name he never got — who seemed so at ease in his own skin.

Wait . . .

The stranger's name. While he didn't know it, maybe his very social mentor would.

"Hyung?" Jungkook prompted, sitting up a bit straighter in his seat. "You didn't see who I was talking with at the bar, did you?"

"We just went over this, didn't we? I was busy networking and buying—"

"Buying the client drinks. Yeah, I got it," Jungkook cut him off, too impatient to let the elder finish. "But did you see—?"

This time it was Jin who interrupted. "No, I didn't see who you were talking with. Why? Who was it?"

"I don't know. That's why—" Jungkook slumped back against the couch. "I hoped you might've known this person. But it doesn't matter. Just forget it."

"God, you sound on edge."

"I'm not on edge."

"You're definitely on edge," Jin repeated, the click of a door shutting punctuating his words. He must have relocated to his room because he spoke louder as he suggested, "You need to relax. Or get laid."

That was the second time that particular activity was proposed to him within these last few hours. Did he scream uptight or something?

"I'm not on edge. I'm on a deadline," Jungkook countered, bringing his free hand up to massage his temples. "And I don't think it's possible to finish this valuation in time. I'm gonna get axed."

"No one is going to fire you."

Oh, but they could. They would. There was a line of wannabe analysts prowling the streets of Seoul, waiting for one sorry sucker to fuck up so badly that they were immediately asked to leave the building. Maybe that sounded dramatic, but it was true. Jungkook had seen it done too many times before.

So he let his weary mind assume the worst. "They're gonna fire me, Jin, and then I won't be able to pay my bills. Do you know what will happen when I can't pay my bills? I'll have to sell my couch. Those stupid silk ties you told me to buy. And then probably my body because I won't have any other income and—"

"Oh, my god. Breathe. You're going to be fine. We all have to pull crazy nights like this every now and then. You'll get it done."

"But—"

"Eat some food, finish your project, and then get some sleep, Kook," Jin instructed, clearly ready to dismiss his paranoid mentee. "And you better get some sleep because I'm not letting you skip our gym session at six."

"But that's in, like, four hours."

"Better get to it then."

"Hyung."

The line went dead.

With a groan, Jungkook tossed his phone to the side and buried his head in his hands. He just wanted to go to bed. He wanted — no, needed — a few hours where he wasn't worried about meeting a deadline or attempting to impress his boss or wondering how the hell he'd survive the week, let alone years in this impossible industry. He needed to find that so-called work-life balance and actually have a life outside of work.

Maybe one day.

But as of right now, work was his life. His constant companion. His most demanding relationship. The first and last thing on his mind before waking and drifting off into sleep. And because of that fact, he had to suck it up and get the job done.

So for the next thirty minutes, Jungkook poured all of his remaining energy into finalizing the last pieces of his valuation. He double-checked his formulas and calculations, created a few graphs for visualization effects, and even wrote up a summary of his analysis and findings. Was it his best work? Probably not. But hey, at least it was finished.

As soon as Jungkook emailed the spreadsheet to his boss, his eyes started to fall shut and his body began to slump over. The warm bliss of sleep was calling his name, luring him under its seductive spell with each passing second. Jungkook would've been perfectly content with using his computer as a pillow if his phone hadn't chimed, signaling the arrival of his barbeque. And while one part of him desperately wanted to ignore the delivery in favor of passing the fuck out, the other part — his growling stomach, namely — had him stumbling down to the lobby of his apartment building to get his bulgogi and kimchi fried rice.

Stumbling, because he could barely remember how to put one foot in front of the other in his exhausted state and nearly collided with a door.

Once Jungkook finished shoving his face full of food, it was close to three in the morning. He wished he could say that pulling a fifteen-hour workday was abnormal, that he didn't need to stay up this late too often. But it was normal. Two or three hours of shut-eye each night was pretty routine. And even if he didn't have some project keeping him up until dawn, his traitorous body and restless mind wouldn't allow him to fall asleep at a reasonable time. No, Jungkook would inevitably toss and turn for hours until he finally drifted off.

Yeah, he knew his entire sleep schedule was fucked.

He couldn't exactly fix that at the moment, so he reluctantly set his phone's alarm for five-thirty. Just two-and-a-half hours away . . . Wonderful. God, Jungkook wasn't sure how he would force himself out of bed, let alone into a gym for leg day. And okay, sure, he knew he could cancel; Jin wouldn't really hold it against him. But surprisingly enough, Jungkook looked forward to these early morning workout sessions. They were some of his only opportunities to socialize outside of the office and some of the few moments he had to unwind.

And the best part? He felt at home in the gym, safe and comfortable. He didn't have to worry about embarrassing himself in front of anyone.

Oh. Right.

Fuck.

The mortifying events from the bar — temporarily forgotten thanks to his all-consuming project — came rushing back to the forefront of Jungkook's mind. From getting caught staring at that stranger's ass to generally acting like a flustered mess, he couldn't possibly have made a bigger fool of himself. And to have done all of that in front of a man who seemed so . . . so . . . so suave and self-assured, it made Jungkook want to hide under his comforter and erase that humiliating experience from his memory.

And yet . . .

Was it strange Jungkook didn't want to completely forget about that man?

Hell, that question didn't need an answer. Even if he wanted to forget about the guy, he couldn't. Though the conversation they shared was brief, it was too intriguing to simply brush off. It was too captivating to classify as nothing but random, meaningless bar talk.

And Jungkook understood why he was so intrigued and captivated. Really, he did. It was so obvious.

It was because Jungkook envied the man.

God, he envied the stranger's confidence. His ability to smooth talk and engage in playful banter. Those sparkling eyes that made it impossible for anyone to look away and that teasing smirk that challenged Jungkook to say something clever and witty. And maybe above all, Jungkook envied how the guy could be fully and unapologetically himself. He could wear whatever the hell he wanted, and his job — what was it, alternative touch therapy? — probably wouldn't even care if he got something like an eyebrow piercing.

Wait . . .

Alternative touch therapy. What kind of therapy was that? Honestly, if the man hadn't said anything, Jungkook would've assumed it had something to do with sex work. He felt oddly relieved to know that wasn't the case, reassured for some reason. But still, he didn't know what that sort of job entailed. Maybe it was something like physical therapy? Or massage therapy?

Hopefully, it had nothing to do with giving happy endings during massage therapy.

Despite his better judgment, Jungkook turned back to his computer. A tingling energy coursed through his veins as he opened up a new internet window, ready to dig for information. He really shouldn't be doing this on his work-issued device — his boss would be down his throat if this search led to a sketchy site filled with malware — but he was too tired to find his personal laptop. So he leaned closer to the screen, holding his breath as he typed alternative touch therapy into the search engine.

And what he found?

Everything. Nothing.

Seventy-six million results populated. Seventy-six million. That might have seemed encouraging to some, but Jungkook quickly realized he had no idea what he was looking for. Would the article about the intersection between therapeutic touch and pseudoscientific energy therapy answer his questions? How about the website that detailed the ins and outs of holistic healing? There were also one too many links that pointed to controversies surrounding alternative therapies, but nothing that screamed Here! Click me! I will tell you exactly what the man at the bar meant by alternative touch therapy!

With a sigh, Jungkook clicked on the first video result on the page. He just needed someone to tell him what he was looking for instead of trying to figure it all out for himself. And once that burning curiosity was satisfied, he could finally leave all of this behind and go to sleep.

As the video kicked off, a woman began to explain how alternative touch therapy was a relatively new service in the wellness industry. Many practitioners considered it a piece of the broader counseling puzzle, a different yet beneficial form of self-care. And since several studies concluded that the power of touch promoted healing, this specific therapy could help reduce anxiety, stress, depression, and even physical pain.

That was all great, sure, but what did it mean? What was alternative touch therapy? How did—?

"So what is alternative touch therapy?" The woman continued her narration, eerily reading Jungkook's thoughts and asking his unvoiced questions. "It's quite simple. It's professional cuddling."

Hold on. Cuddling?

The video transitioned to two people snuggled up on a couch, showing how they caressed each other's arms and leaned into the other's embrace. The scene appeared rather intimate with how close they were, heads buried into necks and legs tangled every which way. Each part of their bodies touched in some capacity like they were, well, cuddling with a loved one.

The narrator went on to explain how humans craved connection — emotional, intellectual, or physical — but didn't often get it. That's where professional cuddlers came in. The cuddlers were licensed, fully certified individuals who went through extensive training courses on how to offer the best service for each client. Touch, obviously, was their primary technique, though physical contact wasn't necessary. Sometimes people just wanted someone else to sit beside them.

The video continued for a couple of more minutes, detailing how cuddling with a stranger wasn't really that awkward. If the client wasn't comfortable with something like spooning, then the cuddler might simply hold their hand or wrap an arm around their shoulder. There were no set rules on how to cuddle; all that mattered was that both the client and cuddler felt safe and at ease.

Jungkook remained frozen in his seat after the video ended, trying to wrap his head around all he learned. This type of therapy was entirely new for him. Quite truthfully, if someone had told him about this service before tonight, he probably would've thought it was a joke. But no . . . This all seemed very real. It was something people actively signed up for and something that people did for jobs.

Professional cuddling . . .

It was what that guy at the bar meant by alternative touch therapy, right?

Jungkook pictured the man in his mind, recalling his soft yet sturdy build, his warm disposition, those pillowy lips and that lustrous hair. The guy could be a runway model if he wanted; he seemed like he should be strutting around in glamorous clothing rather than curling up with random people under blankets. He was just so . . . so . . . so pretty.

Trust me. I won't be going home alone tonight.

Jungkook believed the guy's words; he could admit that the stranger was painfully handsome. Excruciatingly beautiful. Maybe that was how the man got clients. He enchanted them with his good looks.

And really, who wouldn't want to cuddle with someone who looked like that? Anyone would want to play with the guy's silky hair and learn how it felt between their fingers. Anyone would want to feel the guy's body pressed against their own, sharing a mutual warmth. And anyone would want to stare into his dark, glittering eyes all while holding hands and talking about their days. Their fears. Their dreams.

It was natural to want that.

Almost like Jungkook had tunnel vision, he watched video after video after video. There were interviews with new clients, tips and tricks from experienced cuddlers, and even detailed descriptions of various cuddling positions. He had no idea why he kept researching — his questions had been answered, he could go to sleep now — yet he couldn't stop himself. He just needed to learn more. He just needed . . .

He just needed to find out the man's name.

The likelihood of gaining that information was minimal, but Jungkook wasn't deterred. Even at three-thirty in the morning, there was no stopping him once he set his mind to something.

Trying a different strategy, Jungkook opened a new internet window and searched for professional cuddling, Seoul. He wasn't sure how the service worked, but he somewhat hoped he could find a directory of cuddlers. And if he could see pictures of all the professionals, maybe he could find his guy.

He clicked on the first result, thinking that The Cuddle Sanctuary: Seoul sounded promising. Once it loaded, Jungkook quickly scanned the page — he saw Become a Cuddler, Code of Conduct, About, and Reviews, but no directory. Chewing on his lip, he went to the About section. There wasn't anything helpful there, just a picture of the owner — a man named Jung Hoseok — and an address.

Oh. Interesting. The Cuddle Sanctuary was just a few blocks away from Jungkook's office.

Jungkook suppressed a yawn as he continued with his search, clicking on random links within the site. He quickly scanned each page, seeing but not actually processing. His brain had clearly had enough. So after five more minutes of a fruitless hunt, he decided to call it quits.

That was until he found a link called Find a Cuddler at the very top of the website. Thanks to his blurred vision and sluggish mind, he must have missed that in his initial search.

Rolling back his shoulders and getting ready to stalk some cuddlers, Jungkook clicked on the link and waited for the page to redirect. Except, when it finally loaded, it wasn't a directory of professional cuddlers. No, it was a form telling him he had to create an account.

Fine. If they wanted his information, they could have his information.

Jungkook auto-filled his details, once again grateful that his internet browser stored the specifics. It took just a few seconds to fill out everything and claim a username — cuddlebunny97. He was tired, okay? He could always change that later. So with all of the forms completed, he bit down on his lip and pressed Create Account.

But instead of a directory of cuddlers filling his screen, Jungkook found a questionnaire. God, how many details did they need? He sped through the application, barely paying any attention as he answered questions about gender and time availability and preferences and gender again. He didn't put too much weight in his responses; he just wanted an account so he could find that guy.

After checking off a dozen more boxes and auto-filling even more information, Jungkook finally reached the end. All he had to do was click Submit. So, with his heart rate kicking up ever so slightly, he submitted the questionnaire.

And once the page reloaded, what did he find?

Thanks! Someone will be in touch soon regarding scheduling.

What? After all of that, Jungkook didn't even get to see a list of the cuddlers? That was the whole point of filling out that silly application — he wasn't actually interested in the service, he just wanted to see what the cuddlers looked like!

Jungkook closed his laptop with an audible snap, groaning as he realized how much time he had wasted. He should've known things were never that easy; he should've known he wouldn't get lucky and find the man just like that. But he and his tired mind had hoped. He had hoped to find the guy and put a name to that perfectly crafted face.

Feeling more than frustrated with himself, Jungkook crawled into bed and threw the covers over his head. And as his body melted deep into the mattress . . . as he slowly lost his grip on consciousness . . . he convinced himself of one thing.

By morning, he would forget all about this. He wouldn't care about the man or be obsessed with learning his name.

By morning, this all would be nothing but a weird memory.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

》 V A L E N W R I T I N G 《

Did I sign up for a few professional cuddling sites to get the full experience? Why yes, yes I did.

(Should've worded the above better, but I didn't actually have cuddle sessions! Just made a few accounts so I could explore the sites and see what it was all like!)

This was another fun chapter to write! I really enjoyed the dialogue between Jin and JK, as well as starting to explore the world of professional cuddling. What are our thoughts on cuddling as a therapy service? Have you heard of it before? Would you give it a try?

Let me know your thoughts on the story so far! As I've mentioned, this one is going to be a fun ride. But (as always) I'll add some life lessons along the way!