beyond meaning

“What are you thinking about?” Yoongi sounds hazed out, words a little sleepy and a little dreamy, and when Jeongguk tilts his head to look him in the eye, he looks just as floaty as he sounds.

You, Jeongguk wants to say, and maybe he’s a little bit more gone than he’d thought, because he says it. It’d be all too easy to follow it up with some teasing remark - you, and how annoying you are, hyung or you, and what an idiot you are - but for some reason, the words refuse to come.

And maybe it’s better like that, because Yoongi laughs, smiles that gummy smile that makes Jeongguk’s heart stutter in his chest each time. “Thinking about you too.”

Jeongguk rolls over he’s on his side facing Yoongi, and he scoots closer, closer. Like this, hazed out and dreamy, it’s easy for Yoongi to move closer too, to let Jeongguk wrap one of his legs around his, to let Jeongguk twine their fingers together. Yoongi’s hand is warm in his, and Jeongguk squeezes, once, twice, just because he can.

“What are you thinking about, Gukie?”

Jeongguk can’t help looking down at Yoongi’s mouth when he speaks, and his gaze lingers for a heartbeat too long on the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips, on how pretty pretty pink they are, on the bit of red at the center of his lower lip where he’d bitten too hard. Yoongi laughs then, and his lips curve up, playful and almost dangerous as he says, “Never mind, Jeonggukie. Hyung knows what you’re thinking about.”

And that’s not fair, because Yoongi already knows. Jeongguk’s obvious, and Yoongi knows. “Hyung,” Jeongguk whines, “it’s your fault!”

“My fault you want to fuck my mouth?”

Jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut, but it’s too late, far too late. It’s not fair, not fair.

“You could, Jeonggukie. Just tell hyung what you want.”

Jeongguk makes a strangled little noise, can’t honestly help it, and Yoongi laughs a little, the way he always does when Jeongguk’s done something he thinks is particularly cute. He doesn’t say anything else, but he tugs on their joined hands until Jeongguk relaxes and lets his hand be moved.

“Cute, Jeonggukie.” Yoongi kisses the back of Jeongguk’s hand and he relaxes, until Yoongi speaks again. “I was thinking about it too, Guk. Hyung wants it too.”

God, god, god. Jeongguk whines again and nods, opens his eyes to see Yoongi’s other hand at his mouth, one finger slipped inside, just a little. And Jeongguk wants.

“Hyung, please. Don’t make me say it, please just…”

Yoongi smiles around his finger (just the tip, Jeongguk’s brain supplies helpfully) and nods. “Hyung’s gonna make you feel so good, Gukie, baby.”

Jimin’s looking for a new human.

It’d been obvious from the beginning, with the smoky eyeliner and those pants, the ones that make the muscles of his thighs stand out, the ones that don’t even have pockets for Taehyung to fit his hands into when they’re out together. It’s obvious because of the way Jimin had gone straight to dance after kissing Taehyung quick and chaste. His lips had been glossy and pretty pink then, but when Taehyung shoulders his way through the crowd to find him, his lip gloss is smudged and his hair is tousled from the hands of another.

Taehyung doesn’t bother saying anything, just slips up behind Jimin to fit their bodies together. Jimin melts into him, almost on instinct, and his dancer’s body doesn’t even miss a beat of the song that’s playing, all heavy bass. There’s a circle of space around them now, and Taehyung hides his grin in Jimin’s shoulder, because of course there is.

He knows they look good like this, with his hands loose on Jimin’s hips and Jimin acting the way he is. “You’re extra flirty tonight,” Taehyung mumbles against Jimin’s neck, taking time to suck a dark hickey there for the way it makes Jimin shiver. He leaves his head dropped on Jimin’s shoulder when he’s done just for how possessive it looks, letting Jimin lead them in a dance that is all slow hip movements and the press of Taehyung’s front to Jimin’s back.

“He’s extra cute.” Jimin replies, and Taehyung follows his gaze to the (admittedly pretty) boy, who isn’t even looking, not yet.

“He’s definitely your type.” Because of course he is, slim and pretty and elegant even in a simple black shirt and leather pants, even just holding a simple beer in one hand and his phone in the other. Begrudgingly, Taehyung nuzzles into Jimin again before whispering, “He is pretty, I guess.”

It takes a long moment, and Taehyung almost thinks that Jimin has either not heard or is ignoring him, but then he hums and asks, “Pretty enough for you?”

And there’s a thought. “Haven’t done that in a while, Jiminnie.” But as dismissive as Taehyung tries to sound, there’s already a grin tugging at his lips, because it’s been a long time, and he’s missed this.

Jimin shrugs, and it jostles Taehyung’s head in a comfortingly familiar, familiarly annoying way. “You can only wingman for so long, Taehyungie. I believe it’s my turn?”

“You can have him, you spotted him after all.”

Another quick kiss before Jimin peels himself away from Taehyung, eyes alight and lips grinning. Taehyung watches, grinning a little, as Jimin makes his way towards the boy, quick and easy, avoiding all the dancers without even trying. He stops in front of the boy, and Taehyung can’t tell what happens now, but he can imagine.

Jimin’s smiling, a little shy, a little coy as he introduces himself, asks the boy’s name. Leans in too-close like he can’t hear what he’s saying, even it’s just an excuse to show off the dip of his shirt and the jut of his collarbones. Jimin’s irresistible, especially like this, and he knows that. So it’s not long before Taehyung sees Jimin leading the boy out on the dance floor, pressing close to him and leading him in a dance that’s all hips, all seduction. And no, Taehyung thinks, this is what Jimin does best, this is why Taehyung had been attracted to him in the first place. But this is Jimin’s boy, so Taehyung turns his back on them to get another drink and give Jimin some time to have some fun before he joins in too.

By the time Taehyung finishes nursing his drink and finds Jimin, he’s very obviously gotten his human wrapped around his pinky finger. The human is busy sucking hickies into Jimin’s neck, and Jimin’s head is tipped back with that dreamy little smile playing across his lips. When his eyes flutter open, he spots Taehyung and his little smile grows. “Hey,” he murmurs, and it’s as much to the human as it is to Taehyung.

“Hey yourself,” Taehyung replies. “Having fun?”

“So much,” Jimin stretches out the words, the hand that’s not in the human’s hair reaching out for Taehyung. When Jimin comes closer, Jimin drapes his arm around his shoulders so he can press himself close, close, and the human looks a little startled, a lot hazed out.

Up close, Taehyung does have to agree with Jimin’s earlier statement. “He is pretty.”

The boy’s eyes widen and sharpen a little, and he shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts. Cute, Taehyung thinks, like a puppy. His hair is mussed from Jimin’s hands and his lips are swollen and pretty pink, and he’s just pretty. “What…?”

“I’m Taehyung. Jimin’s...partner.” And when the human pulls away, clearly startled, Taehyung laughs and tugs him back, letting his gaze very obviously drop to his lips. “Don’t worry, we like to share. Don’t we, Jiminnie?”

“Only if Jungkookie wants to too,” Jimin reprimands, but it’s playful like it always is. Clear consent is important, especially for this, if Taehyung is reading him right.

“I...I do.”

Instead of answering, Taehyung cups Jungkook’s face in his hands to bring him in for a kiss, dirty and raw and teeth and tongue. He tastes like Jimin’s peach flavored gloss, and he isn’t shy in his kisses, taking just as much as Taehyung does.

Jimin’s hands are on Taehyung’s hips now, untucking his shirt from his pants to rub his fingers against bare skin. One hand disappears, and when it comes back, the touch is unfamiliar, hesitant. Jungkook’s hand, Taehyung realizes, and he pulls away from the kiss, grinning.

“Do you want to come home with us, Jungkook?” and when Jungkook hesitates, “or we can stay here, go anywhere you want to.”

“We want you to be comfortable, Jungkookie,” Jimin adds on. He kisses Jungkook’s neck, on a spot that’s already beginning to redden.

“Can...my house then? I’d feel most comfortable there.”

“Of course.” Jimin answers for them both, and Taehyung nods his approval, finding Jimin’s hand and squeezing it. “Let’s get out of here, then.”

They take separate cars home, Taehyung and Jimin in one, Jungkook and the friend he came with in another. They make a quick detour to drop off the friend (“Hobi, this is - no, bye, Hobi!”) and then it’s to Jungkook’s house.

The living room light is on and there’s another human in there, tall and broad-shouldered and just Taehyung’s type, but then Jungkook says “This is my brother, Seokjin.” and Taehyung changes his mind.

There are quick greetings and Seokjin doesn’t even bat an eye at the sight of Jimin latched onto Jungkook with Taehyung trailing just behind. All he does is roll his eyes and give Jungkook this look, fond and exasperated. “Please keep it down this time, or should I leave? Actually, no, don’t answer that. I’ll be at Namjoon’s.”

Jimin’s already prodding Jungkook towards where he thinks the bedrooms are, and all Jungkook has time to call out is, “Have fun with your boyfriend!”

Taehyung lingers at the front entryway, watching Seokjin close his book and laptop, stand and stretch. He’s pretty, very pretty, but something in the line says vampire, not incubus. Plus it’d be awkward, and Taehyung doesn’t want to deal with that kind of awkwardness for the rest of eternity.

So he ignores Seokjin’s eyes on him and follows Jimin and Jungkook down the hall and to the open door on the left, finds them tangled together on Jungkook’s bed. They haven’t waited for him, but Taehyung doesn’t really mind, because like this, he has the chance to look around at the walls that are light blue and the sheets that are dark-blue-almost-black to match. There are video game cases, books and albums scattered on the desk and drawers, and it’s...a regular teenage boy’s room. It’s cute.

But what’s most important is the bed, and who is on it. Jungkook has finally managed to undo the harness around Jimin’s shirt, and as he watches, Jungkook tugs Jimin’s shirt off and tosses it away. They roll back over then so Jimin is trapped beneath Jungkook, and said boy only barely startles when Taehyung comes close enough to dip his hands beneath his shirt to run his hands up the length of his back, just feeling for a long moment before he tugs to get his attention.

“Off.”

And off goes the simple black shirt, and off comes Taehyung’s own shirt, done by himself and carefully because he quite likes this shirt. The long, delicate earring comes off as well, and Jungkook and Jimin look so pretty together, like this, that he stops and just watches for another few moments.

“He really likes hickies,” Taehyung guides, “especially on his thighs. His stomach too.”

Jungkook immediately does as he’s told and Taehyung hears a familiar set of noises: first a gasp, then a whimper, then a whine. So Taehyung gets up on the bed, closer to Jimin, so he can see Jimin’s scrunched up nose and bitten lip and closed eyes. “Pretty baby,” he murmurs, stroking his hand through his hair, “do you like what your boy is doing to you?”

Jimin nods, hand eagerly searching for Taehyung’s. When he has it, he guides it to his mouth, and Taehyung laughs. “Forgot how much you like having your mouth full, needy baby. Want Jungkookie to help you with that?”

Jimin whines around three of Taehyung’s fingers, blinking his eyes open to show off the tears that have gathered there. He doesn’t respond, not verbally, but Taehyung knows him well enough to know that yeah, yeah he does.

“Jungkookie, do you want our Jiminnie to-”

“Yes,” Jungkook rushes out, “god, please. Yes.” He loses his breath when Jimin slides easily to the floor, on his knees, facing them.

“Don’t keep him waiting,” Taehyung laughs, tugging a little at Jungkook’s hair, “Jiminnie can be very impatient.”

“Oh,” Jungkook mumbles. He scoots forward so he’s on the edge of the bed, and Jimin immediately comes forward so he’s kneeling between Jungkook’s legs, more than ready, just waiting for Taehyung’s command. And when Taehyung gives it, Jimin leans forward just enough to kiss the tip of Jungkook’s cock, chaste, reverent.

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat once, and then again when Jimin licks a long stripe from base to tip, and Taehyung can’t, can’t help leaning over to suck a bruise onto his neck when he tips his head back to moan.

“You are pretty,” he murmurs against Jungkook’s neck, and noticing the way Jungkook’s breath catches again at his words, Taehyung fights back a laugh. So Jungkook is more like Jimin than he’d thought. “You’re so, so pretty, Jungkookie. My pretty baby boy.”

When he looks, Taehyung sees Jimin sucking in earnest, bobbing his head now with each stroke and making breathy little noises whenever Jungkook’s hips jerk up. “You can fuck his throat if you want,” he whispers in Jungkook’s ear, and there must be trust built up already, because Jungkook nods and then they’re all scrambling to find a better position, all three of them eager and ready.

Taehyung settles his head on Jungkook’s shoulder, hands on his hips, both to keep him close and to guide, because Jungkook is young, selfish, and Jimin can take much more than he’s giving. “Let me,” he murmurs, and it takes a long few moments, but Jungkook finally relents and lets Taehyung guide him, smoother, deeper strokes that make Jimin choke on his breath.

Like this, Taehyung can see everything, from the way Jungkook bites his lip and furrow his brow to keep the little noises in to the way Jimin’s eyes scrunch shut and his cheeks start to redden. Jungkook’s nose brushes his cheek, and it’s obvious what he wants, so Taehyung indulges him in a kiss that’s messy and needy and that makes Jungkook whine.

“Pretty baby,” Taehyung mumbles into his mouth, “my pretty baby, doing so well for me, making Jiminnie feel so good. Tell us what you want, baby boy.”

“Want…” and Jungkook’s breathless, because of course he is, “want to watch you. How you usually are, with each other.”

It’s an unusual request, but Taehyung is more than happy to oblige, and Jimin’s already standing, shimmying Taehyung’s pants down before kissing him playful and quick. They’ve had more than enough time to learn each other’s bodies inside and out, and with that one gesture, Taehyung knows that Jimin wants to tease. So he lets Jimin push him down, watches with hooded eyes as Jimin fits himself between his spread legs. There’s an uncharacteristically fond grin on his lips and something that’s almost love in his eyes, but it’s probably just the adrenaline.

“Hey,” his voice is as soft as the hand on his chest now, “it’s my turn, remember, Tae?”

“Of course, Chim. Jungkook’s your boy, I haven’t forgotten that.”

“Good.” Jimin leans down for another kiss, and when he comes back up, there’s all mischief on his face. Despite what Jungkook may think, they don’t usually do this kind of thing with each other, unless they’re showing off, putting on a show for a third. “Wanna ride you,” Jimin decides, “missed you inside me, missed your cock stretching me out.”

Taehyung resists the urge to snort: Jimin’s other-people sex voice is nothing like how he sounds when it’s just the two of them, but everyone seems to eat up that voice. And yeah - Jungkook moans, and when Taehyung glances over at him, he’s watching them, eyes wide and chest heaving.

“Would you like to see that, Jungkookie? Or do you want to fuck him yourself? Or...should we both fuck him?” The suggestion earns him twin noises of want, because of course it does.

“Can he...take that?”

“Jiminnie’s taken worse.” And it’s true. Jimin’s always been a bit of a size queen, even before Taehyung had turned him.

Jimin giggles, and it’s Taehyung’s favorite, the one where he throws his whole body into his laugh. “Better, you mean,” he teases, and he’s very clearly fighting back more laughter. But as he says it, he’s making himself more comfortable in Taehyung’s lap, keeping one hand on Taehyung’s chest and reaching back with the other hand for his cock. Taehyung isn’t very surprised that Jimin just sinks down like this is nothing, partially because Jimin’s always been impatient and partially because he knows that Jimin’s had one of his plugs in all day in preparation for this.

Jungkook makes a noise, something between a gasp and a moan, and Jimin giggles again before making a show of arching his back and rolling his hips, just a little, just to tease. “Come on, Jungkookie, want you to fill me up, I need it.”

Jungkook makes that needy little noise again and trips over to them, but his movements grow almost hesitant when he gets close. “Can I just…?”

“Jungkookie!” Jimin whines. He’s still teasing, and Taehyung knows that Jimin knows that he looks best when he’s teasing, so he isn’t surprised to hear Jungkook curse under his breath before he does as he’s told and situates himself. Taehyung can’t see exactly how he’s seated, but he can feel Jungkook’s body heat against his legs, and he can just imagine. Both of Jimin’s hands are on Taehyung’s chest now, and they tighten into fists as Jungkook slowly pushes into him as well.

The noise Jimin makes then makes even Taehyung have to dig his nails into the sheets, and really, it’s unfair that Jimin can still look this good, back arched and head thrown back, hair a golden halo against the bedroom light and eyes screwed shut, swollen lips parted and cheeks flushed pink.

“Pretty, Jiminnie,” Taehyung breathes. Jimin nods a little, hips already moving in small, eager circles. He’s needy, eager, and like this, he’ll have to do most of the work, not that he really minds. And Taehyung doesn’t mind either, not with the picture spread out before him, not with the feeling of Jimin surrounding him so entirely. And he’s sure Jungkook doesn’t mind either, by the the noise he makes and the way his nails dig into Jimin’s hips.

Jimin’s already needy, already sensitive, and he doesn’t ride them the way he could if he weren’t already so fucked out, but even still, he does too good of a job, and neither Jungkook nor Taehyung can resist fucking up into him in little jolts, not when Jimin looks like this, feels like this.

Despite being unable to see the expression on Jungkook’s face, Taehyung can hear him, breathes heavy and harsh. Jimin isn’t much better, letting out little hiccuping breaths each time he drops himself down. And it hasn’t been long at all, but Jimin’s already breathless and whining. “Please, I wanna come, please let me come, Tae, please-”

Taehyung laughs and shakes his head, reaching up with one hand to fit two of his fingers in Jimin’s mouth, partially to get him to stop whining and partially because he knows how needy Jimin is for having his mouth full. “Don’t ask me, ask Jungkookie. Do you think our Jiminnie deserves to come? Think he’s been a good boy for us?”

Jimin makes a muffled noise around Taehyung’s fingers and nods eagerly. His thighs are trembling and Taehyung kind of wants to darken the fading marks that are there, but for now, the imprints of Jungkook’s nails on his hips will be enough. Just for now.

“I…” Jungkook sounds uncertain, and it’s cute. Taehyung almost remembers when Jimin was that shy. “I don’t want him to come yet.”

“Why not? He can come more than once. Can’t you, Jiminnie?”

Jimin whimpers and nods eagerly. Taehyung knows he wants to say something, and he tries to, so he slips his fingers free and lets Jimin whine for it. “I can, please, I wanna make you feel good. Wanna be good for you, Jungkookie, Tae, please,” Jimin takes in a deep, shuddering breath and grinds his hips down in slow, steady circles, one hand coming up to his own neck as if he knows Taehyung won’t do it himself. And he’s sure it’s not as good, but Jimin’s too hazed out to care.

“It’s your choice, Jungkookie. You can make him wait, or we can fuck him through it and make him come again. It’s up to you, Jungkookie.”

“Please,” Jimin begs again, and maybe that’s what makes Jungkook fold.

“Wanna let him come. Gonna be so pretty for us.”

“I’m gonna, let me come, please,” Jimin agrees, on his way to breathless. Whenever he gets needy, Jimin dissolves into breathless whines and whimpers, and when he gets needy, all he can manage is broken repetitions of whatever his partners have said. He only gets that bad when he’s close close close to coming.

“You can come if you want, Jimin. We’re not stopping until we’re done though.”

Predictably, Jimin curls in on himself, his whole body shuddering from just those few words. Taehyung’s had time to learn Jimin like this, knows that the promise paired with even just one touch to the hickey high up on his inner thigh will make him come. Before Taehyung can do it though, Jungkook does, and maybe it’s an accident, but maybe it’s not, and his thumb is just barely brushing against the bruise before Jimin is coming in streaks up Taehyung’s chest.

Jungkook mumbles something to Jimin that makes him let out a startled, breathless laugh, and then the grind of his hips picks up again, stuttering and slow. Even over-sensitive and trembling, Jimin makes a pretty picture, and Taehyung simultaneously wants to watch him move and fuck him raw.

“Gonna come soon,” Jungkook chokes out. Jimin makes an appreciative, breathless noise, and Taehyung laughs.

“Where? Inside him or in his pretty mouth? Or maybe on his face - Jimin always looks so pretty with someone’s come on his face-”

And that does it. Those few words and Jungkook comes with a throaty noise. Jimin manages, barely, to lift himself, and Taehyung would be upset, but Jimin’s immediately shimmying down the length of his body to lap at the come staining Taehyung’s chest and down, down to his cock. “Wanna taste you, please Tae, want you to come in my mouth.”

Taehyung’s always been weak for Jimin, even before he’d turned him, but there’s something about the way Jimin begs, because whenever Jimin begs for him to come, Taehyung is helpless to obey. It’s the same even now, and most of it gets in Jimin’s mouth. Jungkook is quick to kiss the come from his tongue though, and as Taehyung watches, the kiss turns lazy, soft, sweet. When it’s just the press of their smiles together, Taehyung sits up and swings off the bed with jelly legs.

“Bathroom,” he mutters, but neither of them pay him any mind with how wrapped up they suddenly are in each other. Jimin tends to have that effect on people.

The last thing Taehyung hears before he leaves the room is Jimin’s soft, sleepy voice mumbling, “Jungkookie, we could...have this all the time, if you want it.”

Taehyung decides to wait it out in the living room - when Jimin comes out twenty minutes later, he’s got Jungkook with him, and they’re holding hands and wearing matching grins.

“He said yes!” Jimin chirps. Jungkook looks absolutely enamoured.

“Let’s go then. I already wrote a note for your brother.”

Jungkook nods, and he looks younger now, shy and soft as he reaches for Taehyung’s hand to hold as well.

“Let’s go home.”

(A few months later has Taehyung draped out on the couch, more than ready to laze the Friday night away with a bunch of shitty horror movies and too much candy. Sudden movement out of the corner of his eye makes him look up: Jungkook’s come out of his room and is heading for the door.

And Taehyung’s lived with Jimin long enough to recognize the telltale signs. The tousled hair, the smoky eyeliner and the cherry red lips. The tight pants and the loose shirt, charm overflowing in the curve of Jungkook’s lips and in the gleam in his eyes. It’s so obvious, and Taehyung can’t help laughing a little.

Taehyung...has a thing for kisses.

He and Jimin both do - that’s part of why they work so well together. Before this, before Jimin’s shy soft confession, they’d spent so many moments kissing just for the sake of it. Platonic kisses, Taehyung would always say, eyes playful and lips pink pink pink, and Jimin would always nod and giggle and pout until Taehyung would lean in to kiss him.

And they are platonic kisses, most of the time. They’re platonic kisses when Taehyung has Jimin pressed into the arm of the couch, and they’re platonic kisses when Jimin sees the ice cream sitting on the table next to Taehyung and leans in quick to kiss the taste from his mouth. They’re platonic kisses when they’re both sweaty and breathless from dancing, and they’re platonic kisses through their giggles at whatever Taehyung’s just said.

They’re not platonic kisses though, in the mornings, when Taehyung wakes Jimin up with soft kisses and softer words, and they’re not platonic kisses with the taste of toothpaste fresh on their lips. They’re not platonic kisses when Taehyung sees Jimin smile soft and sweet, and they’re definitely not platonic kisses when Jimin watches Taehyung laugh and feels that feeling bubble up in his chest.

But they’re nice kisses, platonic or not, and Jimin loves kisses, loves Taehyung, loves kissing Taehyung, and he especially loves the way Taehyung kisses him, with soft lips and sweet words and gentle hands on his hips.

“You’re so cute,” Taehyung murmurs against Jimin’s lips, “cute tiny baby.” His voice is just as breathless as Jimin feels, and Jimin feels a giggle bubble up when Taehyung’s nose brushes against his cheek again.

“Your cute tiny baby,” he prompts, and Taehyung laughs a little, still almost-breathless. He looks a little hazed out when he pulls away, and before Jimin can whine and pout, Taehyung comes back, pressing his boxy smile against Jimin’s lips.

“My cute tiny baby,” Taehyung agrees, and his hands come up to hold Jimin by the waist now, touch warm and firm and perfect. This time, when he kisses Jimin, it’s slow and soft: Taehyung’s thumbs rubbing idle patterns into Jimin’s hips, his breaths puffing out warm and steady against Jimin’s lips when he moves back. His eyes are on Jimin’s lips whenever he does, and sometimes he likes to rub his thumb against them as he whispers how soft, how pretty.

“Wanna kiss you,” Taehyung mumbles now, and his voice is deep and gravelly in the way Jimin likes best, and Jimin is so weak for him. He’s kind of always been soft for pet names and deep voices and big hands and kisses, and he pouts when Taehyung doesn’t immediately lean in for another kiss. “Want to kiss you so bad.”

“Please,” Jimin whines, and he can’t help gasping a little when Taehyung finally, finally licks into his mouth, lips are soft and insistent like usual. And he shouldn't be surprised, but Taehyung’s hands are flirting with the hem of Jimin’s shirt and maybe it’s not fair, but Jimin doesn’t really mind, not when Taehyung starts to suck on his lower lip the way he always does when when he’s teasing.

Taehyung laughs into his mouth when Jimin whines, and it’s not fair because Taehyung knows how sensitive he is. He knows, and he’s doing this completely on purpose, and his voice is rough when he pulls back to murmur, “Pretty lips.”

And before Jimin can say anything, before he can even think of what he could possibly say, Taehyung is kissing him again, rushed and eager this time, teeth biting into his lips, first teasing nips, then biting when it makes Jimin whine. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, and it’s not like it hurts, but Jimin can’t help jumping.

“Stop it,” Jimin whines, and he doesn’t really mean it, because he’s swaying forward, eyes on Taehyung’s smile, because his hands are grabbing for Taehyung’s to hold, because when Taehyung asks to kiss him again, he nods.

The same summer that Jungkook graduates from high school, Yoongi officially starts his internship. It’s at a small company called Bighit Entertainment, and while he isn’t paid monetarily, they give him full access to one of the many studios he’ll need to produce music. He isn’t paid, but he’d already been producing for years using his own shitty equipment in his apartment in LA, and by the time Jungkook is ready to go off to college, he’s given a not-so-shitty apartment and the promise of a full-time job if he wants it. One of the songs he’d made up in that shitty apartment and sent to one of the senior producers has been refined over the summer, and there are rumors floating around that it’ll be the beat for the next idol group Bighit is planning to debut.

Jungkook is going off to college now, and Yoongi kind of really doesn’t want him to. They’d spent the lazy summer days together with rest of the group, but most nights would end with Jungkook lazing around in Yoongi’s apartment, spread out on the couch half asleep or stealing all of his food or hogging the TV to play video games. They don’t really do anything, nothing more than kiss and hold hands and cuddle, and although they have the time and space and privacy to, this, the softness that they have, is more than enough.

Jungkook is going off to college now, and when Yoongi presents the idea to him, he jumps at it. We fit so well together already, and…you’ve already practically lived here for almost a month. A few more couldn’t hurt. You can live with me, if you want to.

And Jungkook does.

So now, the school year has started, and although Yoongi has work and Jungkook has school, they make it work. It’s just like summer, just busier - Yoongi wakes Jungkook up just before he has to go in, and Jungkook texts reminds Yoongi to make sure to eat, stretch, walk around throughout the day. It’s just like summer, because at the end of the day, they’ll sprawl out on the couch together, Jungkook’s legs in Yoongi’s lap as he studies and Yoongi works. It’s just like summer, and Yoongi can tell that Jungkook feels the same.

The only difference, really, are the kisses. The romantic domesticity of it all. Good morning kisses and good night kisses, kisses that taste of toothpaste, of ice cream, of takeout. Jungkook clinging to Yoongi with his arms around his waist as he watches Yoongi make coffee for them both, Yoongi collapsing into Jungkook’s arms at the end of a long day. The two of them falling into bed together to nap, to kiss, to talk. Three little words whispered into necks and mumbled against lips and called out across rooms.

It’s rare, but sometimes, Jungkook finishes his work early, and Yoongi doesn’t feel the need to work and work and work, and they’ll go to bed together early. Not necessarily sleep, but they’ll lay in bed together, arms wrapped around each other. It’s just after midnight, and Jungkook’s brushing his teeth now, finally finished with bio and more than ready for bed. Having just sent in his latest set of songs, Yoongi is waiting for him, more than half-asleep even though it’s so early.

When Jungkook appears from the bathroom, he’s grinning, and Yoongi knows that look. He knows that look, and he knows the laugh bubbling up on Jungkook’s lips, but by the time he can say, “Guk,” in his most warning voice, Jungkook is already running and now jumping, and Yoongi loses his breath in two ways.

Firstly because of Jungkook’s sudden weight landing on his chest, and secondly because when Jungkook looks up, his face is so close. His face is so close, and he’s so gorgeous like this, concealer gone and hair damp from the shower, eyes bright and mouth smiling. He’s beautiful now, and Yoongi is so in love that it hurts.

“You can’t go to sleep yet!” and Jungkook’s pouting in between kisses pressed to Yoongi’s cheeks nose lips, “you can’t sleep because you didn’t follow the rules!”

“What rule, Gukie? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” And he does, but Yoongi loves when Jungkook is like this, pouty and soft and sweet.

“You know what rule! You have to say!”

“Say what? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jungkookie.”

“You know what! Say it! Love me!”

And maybe it’s mean, but Yoongi closes his eyes and pretends that he’s asleep just for the way Jungkook whines. When he opens his eyes, Jungkook is pouting, but as soon as Yoongi says, “Baby,” he’s melting, smiling soft and sweet, flustered the way he always gets with pet names.

“Love me?” Jungkook asks again, and he looks so soft that Yoongi leans up and kisses his pouty lips, again and again and again until he looks as breathless as Yoongi feels.

“Love you very much, Gukie. I love you so much, you know that, right? You’re my angel.”

Jungkook’s eyes promptly go wide, and the smile creeping over his lips is so flustered that even Yoongi feels like he’s melting a little. “Yoongi,” he whines, and he lets himself fall into Yoongi’s arms, face buried in his neck and laugh bubbling out fond and soft.

“Love me too, Jungkookie?”

Yoongi’s known Jungkook forever - the baby brother of his best friend. They’re not brothers by blood, but they are by choice, and their bond had been strong from the beginning. Jungkook is three years younger than Namjoon, four years younger than Yoongi, and the difference is always there until it’s not. Yoongi doesn’t know when it starts, but he does know that sometime between thirteen-seventeen-eighteen and eighteen-twenty two-twenty three, Jungkook grows up. He grows both in maturity and in height, and although Yoongi is more than glad to see him when he finally comes back to Korea, he is not glad to find that he’s at least half a head shorter than his baby brother.

Four years has done him good, and Jungkook has finally grown into himself. He’s long and lean with the grace of a dancer, slim and strong and soft and pretty. But beneath his newfound grace and looks is that same small boy, the one that is shy to everyone but the few he’s close with, the one that would rather stay in on a Friday night and watch movies on the couch than go to parties, the one whose eyes light up and whose face sets in determination whenever he hears a song he likes, a song he wants (needs) to dance to. He’s gotten better at that too, and he’s made close friends: Jimin and Hoseok from dance and Taehyung from class. Namjoon has someone new as well, a pretty, pretty boy that is not just a friend and not a boy either. Their name is Seokjin and they’re Namjoon’s partner - not boyfriend, because I don’t know what I am, but it’s not a boy - and the six of them fit together so well that Yoongi wants to cry because he’s left out, he doesn’t know all of the inside jokes and the stories and the things they’ve done.

But Jungkook. Jungkook drags him in so easily and so effortlessly that it’s almost like he’d been there all along, and the six of them accept him as a long-lost brother. It’s not six now, it’s seven, and seven’s always been Jungkook’s favorite number.

Sometimes, Yoongi forgets. In America, things had been different, he had been different, and while there is the exception of Namjoon and Seokjin, even that’s still a secret to everyone but them, and Yoongi forgets. Because sometimes, Jungkook will sit too close, and one of his hands will fall to Yoongi’s thigh, and he’ll lean into Yoongi even just to breathe him in, and Yoongi forgets. He’s pretty sure that he’s just overanalyzing like he tends to do, and he’s sure that Jungkook is just comfortable with him because of all the time they’d spent together, that Jungkook only sees them as brothers.

It’s what makes sense, because Jungkook is just as touchy with Taehyung and Jimin, is just as soft around Hoseok, is just as sweet to Seokjin as he is Yoongi. (Namjoon’s an exception, but that’s because they’re brothers, so what does that make him and Yoongi?)

Cliche, that’s what it is. Jungkook graduates from high school, and while Yoongi had missed the ceremony, the seven of them have their own little party on the beach. It’s just them, with too many boxes of pizza and too many drinks. Jungkook’s only eighteen, so it’s not exactly legal, but he’s with his friends and brothers, and they don’t drink too heavily.

Except this is Jungkook’s first time, and just a few drinks in and there’s already color high on his cheeks, already laughter bubbling up and happiness clear in his eyes. He’s leaning against Yoongi more than usual, laughing at everything one of them says, and he’s happy. He’s happy, and Yoongi’s heart is warm, because his Jungkook is happy.

“Yoongi,” Jungkook mumbles, and when Yoongi glances down, he’s smiling, giddy and soft and pleased. “Pay attention to me.”

And maybe it’s the alcohol, but Yoongi wraps an arm around him, holds him closer. “Of course-” and he forgets again, almost stutters out the word baby, but he doesn’t. “Jungkookie.”

“What were you going to say? And you were, so don’t say you’re not. I know you.”

And maybe it’s the alcohol, but Yoongi nods and mumbles, “Baby. I was going to say baby.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, and then, with a little pout, with playfulness in his eyes, “why didn’t you?”

Because, Yoongi wants to say, I can’t take that back, not with you. I can’t do that to you. “Jungkookie, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Yoongi,” Jungkook says, and he’s got that bunny-faced pout on his lips and stubbornness in his eyes. “I know what I’m doing.”

And maybe it’s the alcohol, but Yoongi frowns and decides to indulge Jungkook instead of doing what his brain is screaming at him to do and push him away. “What are you doing then, Gukie?”

“I’m flirting with you, Yoongi. I’ve been flirting with you. I like you.”

And maybe it’s the alcohol, but Yoongi doesn’t push Jungkook away even now. Because it’s not the alcohol, and Jungkook’s eyes are clear. They’re clear when he looks up at Yoongi, and they’re clear when he glances down at Yoongi’s lips and then back up, and they’re clear even now. So Yoongi does what his heart is telling him to do: he reaches out and cups Jungkook’s cheek in his free hand, takes a quick breath, and kisses him.

It’s not the kind of kiss Yoongi is used to, even if the taste of alcohol on his tongue is familiar, and Jungkook positively melts into him. Vaguely, he hears cheers and applause and remembers that the other five are right there, but Jungkook doesn’t pull away, so neither does he. But eventually, they’re pulled apart by Taehyung and Hoseok, and they’re both - all five of them, really - are smiling so broadly that Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“Finally,” Jimin says then, and he looks like he’s trying not to laugh when he teases, “we’ve all been waiting for ages for that to happen.”

Jimin gets needy sometimes.

There’s various stages to it, his neediness, but Yoongi knows he’s needy when Jimin starts pouting around the house, lips puffy and pink. He’s showing his lips off, like he always does when he gets like this, when he gets soft and needy and sweet. Jimin is pouting now, and Yoongi watches him, watches the way Jimin frowns, the way his lower lip pushes out, the way his finger comes up to trace the glossed curves. Yoongi watches, watches until Jimin hums out a quiet little noise, watches until the finger at his mouth slips in. He’s not sucking, not quite, but Yoongi doesn’t wait for it to get to that point before he’s coming over to sit next to Jimin, trying and not quite managing to hide his fond smile.

“You’re so cute when you pout like that, Jiminnie. Pretty lips.”

And like clockwork, Jimin whines, eyes widening as his finger slides further into his mouth. Maybe he’s trying to be subtle, but Yoongi doubts it, because Jimin is never subtle, not when he’s this needy. He says something, an attempt at Yoongi’s name, maybe, and nothing else.

“What, baby? Can you use your words?” And he can, Yoongi knows, but when Jimin shakes his head, he isn’t disappointed. “How about I ask you some things, and you can tell me yes or no, hm?”

Here, Jimin hesitates, but he nods after another quiet prompt. He wants to be good, and that’s clearly won out over his embarrassment. “Do you want something for your mouth? You keep playing with your pretty lips.”

Finally, Jimin lets his hand fall to his lap, and Yoongi’s eyes drift from his spit-slick finger up to his pretty mouth, shining eyes. That’s answer enough - even the way his back straightens so he can sit up, just a little. Normally, Yoongi would tease, but he’s impatient too, had been wanting Jimin’s mouth around his dick for ages now.

“What do you want, baby? Your pretty finger not enough?” and when Jimin shakes his head, Yoongi laughs. “Yeah, I know. Too tiny, hm? Not enough to fill your mouth?”

Jimin shakes his head again, and he’s pouting again, eyes already wide and teary. “Can I?” he asks, voice quiet and shy. Yoongi laughs, reaches out to run a hand through his hair, nods.

“Always.”

And there’s grace in the way Jimin slips from the couch to fall to his knees, grace in the way he crawls over to fit between Yoongi’s spread legs, grace in the way he shimmies Yoongi’s sweats down his legs. There’s somehow even grace in the way Jimin’s small, small hands reach for Yoongi - one on his thigh and the other fitting around the base of his cock - and there’s grace in the way Jimin leans forward to lap at the tip of Yoongi’s cock.

“Tastes good,” Jimin mumbles, glancing up at Yoongi. There’s adoration in his gaze, and his smile is beyond flustered when Yoongi reaches out to run a hand through his hair. He leans down again to open his mouth, and this time he begins to suckle, slow pulls that make Yoongi shudder.

“God, you’re good, Jiminnie. Doing so good for me, my pretty baby boy.”

Jimin whines, and like always, he’s weak for the pet name. It’s cute, how soft he is, how soft and sweet and needy, and as weak as Jimin is for pet names, Yoongi is even weaker for him. There are so many things that he wants to say, but all Yoongi can do is murmur little praises and pet his hand through Jimin’s hair.

“Can you take more for me, angel?” and when Jimin hums, Yoongi’s hand tightens in his hair. He knows that Jimin doesn’t especially love when Yoongi pulls, but this just makes him shudder and suck harder. His eyes are wet with tears when he glances up, and as Yoongi watches, he blinks and a tear slips from his eye.

It’s been a few months of careful thought and planning and research, and even though Seokjin knows that Jungkook has been wanting this for a long time, Seokjin needs to be careful, needs to do this right so he won’t hurt his baby boy. Jungkook likes the pain, just a little, and Seokjin is sure that he wouldn't mind the sting of the ropes that are pulled a little too tight against his skin or the pull and tug of his arms, snug against his back. But Seokjin wants - needs - him to be okay, needs to do this right. And yeah, Jungkook says that he’s boring, that he loves the risk that comes each time they try out a new kink, but Seokjin, on the other hand, does not.

He likes the way Jungkook goes weak under his words and commands, the way he can literally see Jungkook’s inner struggle between disobeying and obeying, the way Jungkook’s proud and willful nature always, always bends. Training him had been a challenge: Jungkook isn’t like Seokjin’s other subs, isn’t soft and sweet like Jimin, or easily excitable and eager to please like Taehyung. He’s somewhere in between, and the three of them together are three bundles of excitement and petulance and need. It’s overwhelming at times, but they’re all so soft for each other that Seokjin’s heart always melts and he always ends up giving his baby and his puppy and his brat exactly what they want, when they’re together.

But apart is completely different story, and not even Jimin’s pouts and tears would be able to stop Seokjin now. Jungkook needs to be trained, and Seokjin finally has him all to himself: Taehyung and Jimin are on a sort of double date with Yoongi and Hoseok, and Seokjin has made sure to tell them to keep their subs through the night so there won’t be any interruptions.

Seokjin checks his phone one more time - the group chat with him, Yoongi and Hoseok is quiet, so he can only assume that they’ve got their hands full. Jimin had been teary all weekend, and Taehyung hadn’t helped either with his restless neediness, which meant that Jungkook was just as bad, being more bratty than usual and full out disobedient just to take Seokjin’s attention away from his other subs.

So now that Seokjin has Jungkook alone, now that he finally feels confident enough to try out what Jungkook’s been wanting for so long, Seokjin makes his way over to his sub’s room. Jungkook is asleep - has been napping for just over an hour, and Seokjin wakes him gently, with soft touches and kisses to his puffy cheeks and pouty lips. Jungkook’s always so soft when he’s sleepy, and today is no exception, because even though he grumbles as Seokjin continues to press gently kisses to his cheeks, he stretches his hands up when Seokjin pulls away to sit up.

“Jinnie,” Jungkook coos, and it’s a little pouty, mostly mischievous, “Jinnie, come back!”

And even though Jungkook looks like an angel right now, Seokjin knows better than to trust that smile. The last time he’d left Jimin alone with Jungkook, he’d come back to find Jungkook smiling like an angel with his hand down Jimin’s pants. Jimin had been crying, little hiccuping sobs muffled behind his hand, not because Jungkook wasn’t doing anything he didn’t want, but because Seokjin had told Jimin that he’d get a special reward if he was a good boy and didn’t come until he was allowed to.

Seokjin had had to give Jimin his reward later that night, and even though Jungkook got to watch, he wasn’t allowed to touch, and although his brat got bent over his knee for his own punishment, Seokjin got the sense that that was what Jungkook had been wanting all along.

“Jungkookie, baby, go take a shower. I have plans for you while Jiminnie and Taehyungie are gone.”

Instead of doing as he’s told, Jungkook wrinkles his nose and snuggles into the blankets, closing his eyes as he pouts up at Seokjin. “Nuh uh.”

“Why not, baby?”

“Don’t wanna!”

And god, Jungkook is so endearing like this, so soft and sweet that Seokjin can’t help leaning down to kiss his forehead. He’s not like Jimin or Taehyung: he doesn’t like being good, doesn’t like being praised, not like they do. Jungkook even likes the punishments to a certain extent, the punishments that Jimin and Taehyung dread.

“I want you clean for me, Jungkookie. Unless you don’t want your punishment, hm?”

That makes Jungkook sit up, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. “No!”

“No, you don’t want your punishment? You were very mean to Jiminnie the other day. You know that, right? You made him cry, I can’t let that go unpunished.”

“I-” Jungkook starts, stops. His nose wrinkles again and he huffs at Seokjin before shaking his head. “Wanna know what it is, Jinnie.”

“Something that you’ve been wanting for a long time, Jungkookie.”

It all seems to click in a heartbeat, and Jungkook reaches out for Seokjin, petulance clear in his eyes and the set of his lips. “Jinnie! That’s not fair!”

“I gave you the choice, Jungkookie - you’re the one that doesn’t want to obey.”

“Gonna shower! Gonna shower, so be nice!”

“Okay, baby. Come to my room when you’re done.”

Instead of answering, Jungkook jumps out of bed, shirt already over his head by the time he reaches the door. The shower starts up minutes after that, and Seokjin picks up Jungkook’s discarded shirt to put in the hamper before making his way back to his room. The ropes are there waiting on Seokjin’s bed, pretty gray and coiled up neatly. He’s been practicing, and Seokjin slowly, carefully unwinds the ropes and counts down the minutes until the water shuts off. Jungkook’s as impatient as ever, and too soon, he’s padding into Seokjin’s room wearing nothing but one of Jimin’s fluffy bathrobes and Taehyung’s slippers.

“Jinnie,” he starts, and then stops, because he sees the ropes in Seokjin’s hands, and he realizes.

“Jinnie, I-”

“We’ll eat first.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to disagree, but he must see that Seokjin is serious, because he closes his mouth and shakes his head. “Jinnie,” he whispers, “Jinnie, please. I want to.”

“Jungkookie-”

“I’ll be good, promise! I won’t be mean to Jiminnie or Taehyungie, and I’ll listen to you, promise.” And maybe it’s Jungkook’s desperate pleas, or maybe it’s the neediness in his face and eyes, but against his better judgement, Seokjin nods.

“Come here, Jungkookie. Stand in front of me, and stay still.”

Surprisingly, Jungkook does as he’s told without fuss, and he fidgets as Seokjin gently slips the bathrobe from Jungkook’s body and maneuvers him into place, arms behind his back and flat on top of each other. He’s bare now, save for his (or maybe Taehyung’s) underwear and a pair of fuzzy socks that might have belonged to Jimin at one point.

“Is that comfortable?” he asks, and when Jungkook nods, Seokjin comes around to face him, looking him in the eye. “Tell me if it’s uncomfortable, if you need anything - a break, to stop, anything. Safeword if you need to, okay? I won’t be upset.”

“I will, Jinnie. Promise.”

“Okay.” Seokjin goes back to where he had been, reaching for the rope again and passing it carefully through the gap between Jungkook’s arms and back. Jungkook shivers when the rope touches him, and when Seokjin makes that first loose coil, he whines.

“That’s it?”

“Jungkookie,” Seokjin warns, but he’s thankful for Yoongi’s advice and warnings now.

(“The best way to learn to be a good dom,” Yoongi had said while checking the ropes once and then again, “is to learn to sub. You can’t rush into this, Seokjinnie. Not that you would, but.”

“It’s kind of looser than I’d expected, actually.”

“It’s fine like this, especially since it’s your first time. So keep them loose for now, okay? Like this.” Yoongi demonstrates, easily slipping two fingers between Seokjin’s skin and the ropes. “You don’t want it too tight, just in case something goes wrong. When you and Jungkookie are more used to it, you can figure out what’s best for you, but for now, keep it loose. And you know Jungkookie better than I do, but he might not...tell you if the ropes are too tight, or he might want them tighter. You know how he is.”

“Yeah, I know.” Seokjin holds still as Yoongi loosens the ropes, quick and easy like it’s second nature, because maybe it is.)

Seokjin coils the rope around Jungkook’s wrists a few times before crossing it over and making that first knot, simple and easy. Even though his hands are trembling, it’s easy, just like he’s practiced, and Seokjin breathes out a heavy sigh of relief. The motions come easier now, but Seokjin takes his time as he wraps the ropes around Jungkook’s front to loop around to his back again. The gray against the tan of his skin is striking, and even though the tie is asymmetrical so far, Seokjin can tell that it’ll be beautiful when he’s done.

“What will it look like?” Jungkook’s already borderline breathless, and Seokjin looks him in the eye to see his cheeks flushed and mouth dropped open, just a little. He’s slow to finish the first two boxes on Jungkook’s front, entirely on purpose because Jungkook has always been impatient, and this isn’t a reward.

“It’s a basic diamond box tie, Jungkookie. We’re starting out slow for now.”

Jungkook whines high in his throat, almost involuntary when Seokjin leaves his line of vision to bring the rope over and up to make another careful knot. He comes back around and makes that first diamond, noticing but not commenting on Jungkook’s now obvious arousal.

“Hurry up, Jinnie!”

“This isn’t about the end result, Jungkookie, you’re too impatient.” Seokjin starts to make the second diamond as he speaks, reaching for the second piece of rope as this one grows smaller. He makes a quick, tighter knot and finishes up the diamond, bringing Jungkook around and strengthening the knots and stem running down the length of his back to his arms.

“Want you to make me feel good though.” Even without looking, Seokjin knows that Jungkook is pouting, but he ignores him, making the fourth careful knot down Jungkook’s back.

Seokjin comes back around and ends of the rope through the length of rope passing around Jungkook’s chest, tugging tight as he murmurs, “I’m making sure the ropes won’t slip, Jungkookie.” Jungkook gasps at the tugging motion, and the glazed look in his eye tells Seokjin that he probably didn’t even hear a word he’d said.

More wrapping around the knots on Jungkook’s back, until this length of rope is finished, and Seokjin hides the end behind one of the knots before leading Jungkook to the edge of the bed and carefully laying him down. And he’s right: the rope looks gorgeous on Jungkook, makes him look soft and strong and small all at once.

On the nightstand are a few things: Seokjin’s phone, a pair of scissors (just in case), and a bowl of flower heads, which is what he reaches for. Jungkook shivers each time Seokjin places a flower head on his skin, tucked between each knot. They cover the dip of his back, pale pink and beautiful, and Seokjin leans down to press a soft kiss to the curve of Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Gorgeous, Jungkookie. Are you good?”

“Good,” Jungkook whispers, and he sounds strained, but in the way he always does when he wants something but doesn’t know how to ask for it.

“Good - hold still while I take pictures. Yoongi will want to see this.”

“Okay.” It’s barely a whisper now, and Seokjin takes the pictures quickly before placing his phone back on the nightstand and plucking the flowers from Jungkook’s skin, slower now. Jungkook whines again when Seokjin helps him sit up, and he fidgets while Seokjin removes the ropes from his skin. He takes his time, holding in a breath until he sees that there are no indents or red marks from the ropes Once Jungkook is free, Seokjin is sure to rub his arms and chest warm, ignoring his sub’s petulant whines and assurances that he’s fine.

“I’m fine, just wanna get off! Jinnie, please!” And yeah, Seokjin could feel Jungkook’s arousal against his hip, but he ignores it in favor of one last squeeze to his hand.

“I have to clean the ropes, Jungkookie. Don’t come until I come back - I want to watch.”

Ever since they’ve started this thing, whatever it is, Jimin has been extra sensitive to every touch, every word. He’ll start to tear up whenever Taehyung grips him tight to hold him in his lap, whenever Taehyung leans in too close to whisper something, whenever Taehyung slips up and calls Jimin baby in the deeper tone it only gets when Jimin is small. Taehyung doesn’t mind the tears, thinks it’s adorable, that Jimin is so pretty with shining, wide eyes and trembling lips, a frown wrinkling his brow and his small hand coming up to cover his mouth.

But Jimin doesn’t like the overwhelmed tears, says that it’s embarrassing, even if Taehyung kisses all of his pouts and worries away. Jimin is his baby, and Taehyung loves those overwhelmed tears, whether Jimin crying because Taehyung is pushing him to say what he wants, or because he wants so bad and Taehyung won’t give it to him right away, or because Taehyung is telling him what a good boy he is, how nice his mouth is and how pretty he looks like this.

“Daddy,” he says now, and he looks close to tears already, pout fixed on his face and eyes cast down, “I’m mad at you.”

“Why, angel?” Taehyung asks, smoothing Jimin’s hair down and bringing him closer all at once. Jimin follows the gentle tug of his hand, snuggling up into Taehyung’s side, and Taehyung fights a huff of laughter - clearly Jimin isn’t all that mad at him.

“Want my mouth full,” Jimin pouts, and Taehyung’s heart blooms with warmth. When they started this thing, Jimin would only tell Taehyung what he wanted after gentle prodding, after Taehyung guessing what it was that Jimin meant, after the tears came and went. But now, Jimin is starting to say what he wants on his own, and Taehyung is more than proud.

“With what, baby?”

Jimin shoots up, frowning now, and he doesn’t say so much as whine out, “Daddy!”

“Yes, baby? Want you to tell me what you want.”

“You know though.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Jimin whines again, clearly considering his options: he can either tell, or pout and whine at Taehyung to no avail. “Want daddy’s cock in my mouth,” he finally sulks, cheeks already pinkening from embarrassment.

“Good boy, such a good boy,” Taehyung coos, “how much do you want to fill you up, pretty baby?”

Jimin dives back into the safety of Taehyung’s side, shaking his head fiercely and gripping Taehyung tight. “Nuh uh.”

“I asked you a question, angel.”

After a long moment, Jimin peeps out just enough to whisper, “Tip,” before burying his face in the blankets again, more than clearly flustered and embarrassed.

“Pretty baby, you can have it. Daddy’s gonna fill your pretty mouth for you, Jiminnie.”

Jimin makes this high, breathy noise and presses more into Taehyung, lips brushing once and then twice against his neck. “Tae-”

“Daddy,” Taehyung corrects, and Jimin makes that noise again, needy and whiny.

“Daddy, I wanna!”

“Said you could, angel. Come on, Jiminnie, be a good boy.”

Jimin nods, cheeks already flushed from eagerness, and he sits up and shuffles down on the bed, licking his lips as he tugs Taehyung’s pants down. Taehyung isn’t hard yet, not really, but he gets there quick with Jimin’s soft hand on his cock and the sight of his puffy lower lip bitten between his teeth.

“Daddy,” Jimin whines, “please!”

“Please what? Please let you suck my cock?”

Jimin inhales a breathy curse and exhales a sigh of Taehyung’s name, nodding eagerly as he bites at his plush lips. “Please.”

“Okay, baby. Suck me off, angel.”

Another whiny breath and Jimin nods, shuffling down just a little bit more and getting comfortable between Taehyung’s spread legs. He leans down and licks his lips one more time before glancing up to make sure Taehyung is paying attention, before sucking just the tip of his cock into his mouth. The way he’s suckling almost reminds Taehyung of the way Jimin sometimes sucks on his own or Taehyung’s thumb when he’s trying to concentrate, of the way Jimin’s lips purse and his cheeks hollow around a straw or spoon or fork, of the pacifier Jungkook had bought him almost as a joke.

“Pretty, Jiminnie,” Taehyung coos, running his fingers through Jimin’s hair as he speaks. He’s gentle at first, but then he tugs, and Jimin whines, a choked off noise because of how full his mouth is. But Jimin looks so good, feels so good, is so good like this, and Taehyung is so weak for him.

“Pretty mouth, Jiminnie. Wanna feel it more, baby.”

Jimin whines again and reluctantly lets the crown of Taehyung’s cock slip from his mouth. His lips are pink pink pink and swollen, and he’s pouting. “Daddy!”

“What, angel? Don’t you want to make me proud?”

At that, Jimin’s eyes widen and he nods in agreement. “Wanna make you proud.”

“Wanna feel more of your pretty mouth, Jiminnie,” Taehyung repeats, and it’s an order disguised as a request. But it’s not an order that Jimin minds obeying at all, because he’s immediately leaning down and fisting Taehyung’s cock in his hand, suckling first at the head again before sinking down when Taehyung tells him to. He ends up about halfway down before Taehyung is pleased, and Jimin’s never really been good at multitasking, so his hand rests lax on the base of Taehyung’s cock. Taehyung reaches down, careful not to startle his baby, and takes Jimin’s hand in his, holding it tight and running his fingers across Jimin’s knuckles as he reassures Jimin that he’s doing so well.

Jimin whines and swallows thickly around Taehyung’s cock, and when he blinks up at Taehyung, there are hot tears already beginning to leak from the corners of his eyes. “Daddy,” he whines when he pulls off, “need you.”

“What do you need, pretty baby?”

“My mouth!” And Jimin’s petulant now, running the head of Taehyung’s cock against his lips to make them slick and shiny. He’s showing off now, and Taehyung can’t help the way his heart pounds in his chest when Jimin licks the precome away. He’s so in love with Jimin that it hurts, and when he allows those words to slip out (“I love you so much, Jiminnie,”), all Jimin does is smile - that flustered, pretty smile that’d started this in the first place.

“Love you too,” he whispers, still shy, still sweet. He leans over to gently press his lips to Taehyung’s inner thigh. It’s an innocent gesture until Jimin begins to suckle, leaving a trail of red marks all the way up until he’s mouthing at the base of Taehyung’s cock again. Taehyung hisses and clenches his hands into the sheets, his hips spasming up as a groan is yanked from his throat.

And now, Jimin is layering his puffy lips over the shaft, teary eyes wide as he bobs his head, sucking Taehyung off eagerly now. “Fuck, Jiminnie, look so pretty like this. Daddy’s gonna come if you keep doing that.”

Jimin whines, and he’d probably be pouting if his mouth weren’t so full. When he pulls off again, his voice is rough and petulant, and all he says is, “Want you to.”

“Where, angel? Can you tell me?” Because honestly, honestly, Taehyung doesn’t care where, because Jimin always keens when Taehyung fills him out, and there’s nothing prettier than the sight of Jimin’s lower back decorated with come, except the way he looks with his eyes closed and cheeks red and mouth open with streaks of white on his cheeks and lips and tongue.

“My mouth,” Jimin finally decides, and even though he’s still pouty, he sounds satisfied, like he’s finally getting what he wants. “Wanna taste it.”

“Okay, pretty baby. On your knees? Or no?”

Jimin considers, then shakes his head. “Mouth,” he says again, more firmly this time. Taehyung laughs and nods, heart warming as Jimin leans down again, small hand at the base and pretty mouth at the tip. It doesn’t even take long this time, not with the way Jimin is tonguing and sucking, not with his pretty noises and lidded eyes, his flushed cheeks and thinned out lips.

“Jiminnie,” Taehyung sighs out, just a few minutes later, and when Jimin hums, Taehyung’s hips jolt up as he says, more urgent now, “Jiminnie.” And Jimin knows him so well, can read him so well, that he knows the difference between Taehyung saying his name as a praise and as a warning. So when Taehyung’s hips twitch up and he groans, when his hands fly down to clench in the sheets and he comes hard into Jimin’s mouth, Jimin is more than ready.

And Taehyung dosen’t even have to say it anymore, but Jimin keeps silent and still with the heavy taste on his tongue and want pulsing in his heart. He wants, he wants, he wants, but he waits for Taehyung to sit up and run his hands through Jimin’s hair, to touch his cheeks, to hold his own. “Open,” Taehyung murmurs, and Jimin does, waiting for Taehyung to give the next command (“Swallow,”) to swallow and lick his lips clean, just the way Taehyung likes.

“So good, Jiminnie,” Taehyung coos, pressing soft kisses all over Jimin’s face, “my good boy, my pretty baby.”

“Daddy,” Jimin mumbles, and even though he’s unwilling to say, Taehyung knows exactly what he means, wants, needs.