The needle's buzz filled the shop like a persistent wasp, punctuated by the low thrum of metal music bleeding from the back room speakers. You pushed through the door of Golden Ink, the little bell overhead announcing your arrival with a cheerful jingle that felt almost ironic given the atmosphere inside - all black leather, exposed brick, and the faint smell of antiseptic mixed with something warmer. Cinnamon, maybe.

Jungkook didn't look up immediately. He was bent over a client's forearm, tongue barely poking out in concentration as he guided the tattoo gun with steady, practiced hands. His own arms were a canvas of ink, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, dark hair falling into his eyes. The same guy who used to copy your math homework in fourth grade now looked like he could've walked straight out of some alternative magazine spread.

Bam lifted his head from where he'd been dozing in the corner, ears perking at the sound of the front door chiming.

"Down," Jungkook murmured without looking up, and the Doberman settled back into his bed with a soft huff, though his dark eyes tracked the familiar figure entering the shop. "Be with you in a second," the amn called out to you now, without breaking focus, voice calm and unhurried.

You hung back by the entrance, pretending to study the flash art on the walls - skulls, roses, geometric designs - but really just watching him work. There was something almost meditative about the way he moved, each line deliberate, each pause purposeful. The client, a college-aged girl, sat perfectly still, barely flinching.

Five minutes later, Jungkook sat back, wiping the fresh ink gently. "Alright, you're done. Keep it clean, follow the aftercare sheet, don't pick at it." He handed her a mirror, and her face lit up.

After she paid and left, he finally turned to you, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Well, well." He stripped off his black latex gloves and tossed them in the bin. "Don't tell me you're actually here to stop being a coward."

You rolled your eyes. Classic Jungkook.

"I'm serious," he continued, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed. His dark eyes glinted with amusement. "How many years have you been 'thinking about it'? Three? Four?" The man tilted his head. "Or are you just here to bother me at work? Because Bam's in the back if you want the better company."

As if on cue, a bark echoed from the back room - an excited one.

Jungkook's smirk softened slightly. "So?" He pushed off the counter, grabbing a bottle of banana milk from the mini-fridge and taking a sip. "What's it gonna be?"