no script no safety

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author
Hello guys
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Let's continue
Curtain opens
Jin’s apartment. Late at night.
The living room is quiet, dimly lit. Unopened takeout sits cold on the table. Jin sits in front of his laptop, blank document open, blinking cursor taunting him.
Jin
Jin
No script. No funding. No direction. How do I build something from nothing?
Jin
Jin
*He rubs his face, exhaustion and doubt clinging to him like a second skin.*
A voice breaks the silence.
Namjoon
Namjoon
Still staring at a blank screen?
Jin
Jin
There’s nothing in my head. I told everyone I’d start something bold. New talent. Fresh stories. But what if there’s just… nothing left in me?
Namjoon
Namjoon
*he walks over, sits beside him on the couch.*
Namjoon
Namjoon
You’ve always been the guy with too many ideas. Maybe it’s not about a script. Maybe you need to remember why you started.
Jin
Jin
To tell stories no one else dares to. To prove that we don’t need to be owned by giant labels to matter.
Namjoon
Namjoon
*he shifts closer, his hand brushing Jin’s.*
Namjoon
Namjoon
Then start there. Let everything else come later.
Jin
Jin
* he looks at him—really looks. The soft confidence in Namjoon’s eyes anchors him.*
Matured content ahead
Jin’s bedroom.
There’s no more talking.
Namjoon kisses Jin with quiet urgency, pulling him closer like he’s been waiting for this. Jin melts into it, tension draining from his shoulders.
Hands explore. Clothes come off. It’s not rushed—it’s full of knowing touches, familiar and new all at once.
Namjoon
Namjoon
*Whispered against his skin* Let me take the pressure off you for tonight.
Jin
Jin
*he exhales, letting Namjoon guide him down onto the bed.*
Namjoon’s mouth trails down his body, teasing, patient. Jin arches into every touch, every flick of Namjoon’s tongue—until pleasure replaces panic, and the world fades out to nothing but the warmth of skin and soft moans.
Jin
Jin
*breathless* You make me feel like I can do anything.
Namjoon
Namjoon
Because you can.
The next morning.
Jin wakes up to sunlight streaming through the curtains. Namjoon’s arm is draped over his waist. The weight of uncertainty hasn’t vanished, but something inside him has steadied.
He drags himself to his desk, opens his laptop. The document is still empty.
Then—ping.
New Email — From: Jung Hoseok Subject: Let’s talk. Hey hyung, I’ve been thinking about your production company. I don’t know what exactly you’re planning yet, but if you’re open to a conversation—I’d like to be a part of it. I believe in what you’re trying to do. — Hobi
Jin
Jin
* he stares at the screen.*
Jin
Jin
*A smile tugs at his lips.* No story. No investors. But maybe… the right people. *He clicks reply.*
Curtain closes
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TBC
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