Hi!

You put the first load in, humming under your breath as you do so, and you get to work tidying up the rest of the house.

The sky is a bright blue with wispy clouds, and you’d love nothing more than to throw open the windows, but heat warnings had been plaguing the city for the last week, and you figured staying inside was the best option.

Grabbing your cleaning supplies, you moved from room to room, dusting and tidying as you went, picking up objects and making sure they went back where they belonged, all the while you padded around on bare feet with Namjoon’s extra-large shirt hanging off your frame.

Once the washer beeped, you rested your broom against a wall and padded over to the laundry room.

You flicked on the light and opened the washer door as you shook out the clothes before putting them in the dryer.

Just as you got to the bottom of the drum, you heard the front door open.

“Hey Joonie!” You called out as you stood up on your tiptoes to stick your head in the washer to get those pesky socks that seemed to stick to the bottom.

That was how Namjoon found you.

Hair wild, face half buried in the washer, miles of skin on display as his shirt provided a lewd sort of dress that kept revealing more of you to his hungry eyes as you reached deeper.

Namjoon swallowed hard as your calf muscles flexed, pushing you deeper into the washer and making his shirt ride up even higher on your body.

Namjoon couldn’t look away.

The shirt rode up enough where he could just start to see the swell of your ass as you extended your arm, hiking the material up and making his cock stir in his pants.

You were a vision.

You were enticing.

Namjoon felt all the blood leave his brain as he watched you work.

He dropped his bag and cleared his throat, finally snagging your attention.

“Hey, baby!” You said, happily holding some socks as you threw them in the dryer and closed the door.

He once again swallowed hard as his shirt skimmed your upper thighs, and seeing you wearing his clothes and nothing else turned him on in a way that all the logic left his brain.

“What are you w-wearing?” He choked out as his eyes roved from your pert nipples to your stomach and finally settled on the apex of your thighs.

You crossed one leg over the other almost bashfully, and Namjoon nearly growled.

He didn’t want you to be shy around him.

“I…sorry, Joonie, I’ve been meaning to do laundry, and I guess it got away from me. I borrowed one of your shirts,” You said, pulling at the hem as Namjoon stalks towards you, eyes flashing and teeth biting into his plush lower lip.

“Don’t you dare hide from me.” He demands, as he grabs your hands and pulls them so they are no longer tugging on the hem of his shirt.

“I just-I didn’t have any clean shorts and your pants would never fit, so I…” Your voice trailed off as you stood there.

Eyes wide.

Innocent.

As if you didn’t do this on purpose to drive him crazy.

And maybe you didn’t

But at this point, Namjoon didn’t give a fuck.

“I come home from a long day, and here you are, doing laundry, wearing my clothes that hardly cover your ass. Fuck... you drive me wild.” He nearly moans as his hands grab your hips and roughly shoves you into the washer.

You wince as the cold metal comes in contact with your back, and Namjoon grins as he cages you in.

His tall frame towers over you, and you can’t help but feel small under the heat of his heated stare.

You can’t help the groan that slips out when he places both hands on either side of your body.

He doesn’t say a word; instead, he presses his front into yours and lets you feel how turned on he is, which makes your head swim as you struggle to process what is happening.

One minute you are reaching the bottom of the washer to grab stray socks, and the next you are caged in by your impossibly hot husband as he stares at you like he wants to swallow you whole.

“Up on the washer.”

His voice is rough and makes you shiver as his lips tease the shell of your ear, causing you to buck your hips into his aching length.

“I-uh? What?” You stammer.

“I said. Up on the washer. Now. Or I’ll throw you up there myself.” He growls as you scramble to do as he says, and you wince as the cold metal of the washer comes in contact with your bare thighs.

“Fuck. You’re a vision.” He complements, as his hand adjusts his glasses before finding a resting spot on your bare thighs, and he takes his sweet time spreading you open for him.

“And nothing underneath? No underwear? No thong? My little minx you wanted me to come home to this, didn’t you?” He purrs as his thumbs run up and down your legs, and you can feel arousal pool in your stomach as you try not to fidget under his searing gaze.

“I-I didn’t. I don’t know.” You manage to respond, as with each swipe of his thumb along your skin, he gets higher and closer to where you are dripping for him.

He ducks down to nibble at your jaw, and you tilt your head back to give him access as you part your legs, allowing his large frame to fit perfectly between them.

His cock is jutting out from the thin material of his shorts, and you shamelessly grind against it as Namjoon sucks on the sensitive skin under your ear.

“My perfect girl. Bet you’re already dripping for me, huh?” He coos as his hands come to the hem of the shirt and he hikes it higher so your lower half is completely bare, and his extra-large shirt pools around your hips.

You are squirming at this point as you feel your pussy aching to be filled with his long, thick cock.

Namjoon finally parts your legs wide and uses his pointer finger to drag up your wet folds, causing you to arch your back and a broken moan to leave your lips.

“Soaked. Fucking knew it.” He chuckled darkly as one finger began to draw slow, teasing circles on your clit as if he had all the time in the world.

You cry out his name and use your legs that are wrapped around his waist to try and pull him closer.

Namjoon’s having none of that as he delivers a light smack to your upper thigh, causing you to gasp.

“I come home and see you dressed like this? You’re not in control here, pretty girl. I am.”

His eyes are narrowed, his cheeks are red with excitement, and you can do nothing but nod as he takes his time gathering your wetness and rubbing slow circles against your clit.

The air is punched from your lungs when he slowly circles your opening and slips a finger inside with ease.

“There’s my girl. Open up for me now. I have to get you prepped for my cock.” He praises as his eyebrows furrow in concentration.

He works the digit in and out of your body, curling it just right and soaking in your moans and whines as he brings you close to the edge with each push of his finger inside your heat.

Namjoon slips another finger in, and you feel yourself clench down on the digits.

He uses his other hand to rub up and down your thighs before he coats the fingers that aren’t buried inside you in your arousal, before once again circling your clit.

This time, there is no soft teasing; he gives you tight, fast circles that make you see stars, and you bow forward, gripping onto his broad shoulders as you bury your face into his neck and cry out his name.

“Take it. Take it like a good girl and cum on my fingers. You want to walk around wearing only my clothes, then take it.” He growls as the callouses of his fingerprints drag against your front wall.

Namjoon’s fingers pound into you, the circles on your clit are only getting faster and more brutal, and with a whine, you lose it as you cum hard.

The wail you let out is borderline banshee as you ride out your high, grinding your hips down to meet his fingers and letting your body light up from the inside out as Namjoon works you through the shockwaves of your orgasm.

Once you come to, your head is fuzzy, and your eyes open in time to see Namjoon slip his fingers out and hold them up to you.

They are stained with strings of milky wetness, and you swallow hard when Namjoon grins devilishly before popping his digits into his mouth to clean them.

“H-holy shit.” You groan as you watch his eyes flutter closed at your taste.

Namjoon laps them up eagerly, and when his eyes finally open again, his pupils are blown wide with need.

“I can’t. I need to…fuck.” He groans as he kneels down and forcibly pulls your legs apart, making you gasp.

“Joon I just. I need a minute…I-” You cry out.

He rips off his glasses and throws them on a pile of discarded towels as he feverishly kisses your thighs before burying his face in your warm, wet heat without any warning.

You moan and writhe, but Namjoon’s hands come to hold you down as he ravishes you.

The heat of his tongue against your sensitive folds makes your eyes roll back as you dig your hands into the sides of the washer, trying to hold yourself steady.

Namjoon’s skilled tongue dances across your folds as his nose bumps and grinds against your clit in a way that makes your legs shake and your heart race under his shirt.

Every time you squirm from the overstimulation, his nails dig into your thighs harder, holding you in place.

You are powerless to stop him as you arch your back and feel him groan against your pussy.

He’s carnal in the way he eats you out. His back muscles ripple under his shirt as he holds your legs as wide as they will possibly go to give him more access to the wetness smeared between your thighs.

Your high is building fast, and you struggle against him as it’s on the cusp of being too much.

Namjoon uses those soft plush lips of his to suckle your clit, and one of your hands leaves the washer in favour of tangling into his soft hair.

You look down in time to see his sharp gaze piercing yours as his eyes are blown wide with lust, and you lose it and orgasm hard against his face.

Waves of pleasure wash over you, and you can’t even scream as you screw your eyes shut and ride out your high, grinding your pussy against his face as he laps it all up.

It seems to take forever for you to come down, and when you do, you are struggling to catch your breath as Namjoon stands up and wipes his face with the hem of his shirt.

“Namjoon I…seriously, what the hell was that?!” You croak as you fan your face with your hand and watch as he pulls his shirt over his head.

“Jesus Christ.” You groan as you eye his strong chest and taut stomach with the happy trail leading down to where his cock is pulsing against the material of his shorts.

“Me? Look at you? I come home to see you wearing that, and you expect me to be a gentleman?” He teases as his hand strokes his cock through his pants.

“I- I don’t know.” You half laugh, feeling delirious from both orgasms so close together.

“I need to be inside you now. Holy shit.” He whines, as he swiftly pulls his pants and boxers down in one go and steps out of them so he is gloriously naked.

His chest is slightly flushed red, and his cock is standing hard and wet as he gives himself a couple of strokes.

“Now?! We can’t go to the bedroom?” You ask in disbelief as he kicks his clothing to the side and once again parts your legs so he can stand between them.

“Can’t wait. Need you now. Nearly blew my load when you came on my face. You’re so sexy, holy fuck.” He admits as he softly squeezes his length before positioning it at your entrance.

He teases his bulbous cockhead against your soaked folds, drenching the head of his cock in your orgasm.

He stares at you for silent permission, and you nod before he slides himself in.

No matter how much Namjoon preps you, the first breach is always painful as his cock is long and impossibly thick.

He slowly inches himself in until he is completely sheathed, and you scootch yourself so you are right on the edge, giving him more room to thrust inside of you.

“Fuck, even after two orgasms, you’re tight. Open up for me, baby. Come on now.” He grits out as he buries his face in your shoulder, and you stroke his hair.

“You’re just too big, Joonie. My big boy who can only think with his big cock.” You praise as you feel him twitch deep inside, and he groans against you.

Namjoon slowly thrusts his hips, and when you moan, he takes it as a good sign and drags your body so you are balancing precariously on the edge as he pounds into you with force.

With every thrust, his cock drags against your sensitive walls, and he fills you in a way that has broken moans spilling from your mouth as you take what he has to give.

Your slick is smeared between your thighs as Namjoon towers over you and pounds into you with low grunts spilling from his lips.

Namjoon fucks like an animal, with his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he takes you right there on the washing machine in the middle of the afternoon.

Sweat is dripping from his brow, and he keeps closing his eyes and grinding his teeth as his cock drills into you, making you nearly vibrate on top of the washing machine.

“Fuck you feel so good.” He grits out.

You are a mess as he works his cock into you, and your hands leave the washer to hold onto his shoulders for support as you cry out his name.

In a desperate attempt to get his big cock deeper you curl your legs around his middle and lock him in place as he smirks knowingly.

“Knew you liked it when I’m buried deep inside you. My baby is such a slut for big cock.”

You cry out at his words and nearly bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming.

His arms flex to hold him up, bicep muscles straining as you grind down to meet his messy thrusts, trying to push yourself as close as possible to his big body.

He begins to pepper hot kisses to your skin as the pleasure builds to a peak, and you feel your body begin to seize up as another orgasm is on the horizon.

The only sounds are grunts and moans as Namjoon pulls all the way out to make you cry, then shoves his cock back in with force.

Your arousal is smeared between your legs and on his stomach, and Namjoon looks down in time to see it dripping off his cock, which makes him grunt out your name.

“Right there. Fuck Joon. Don’t stop.” You beg as your sharp fingernails dig into his shoulders.

Namjoon can feel you getting close, so he uses one hand to dip down between your thighs to rub at your oversensitive clit.

You nearly bend yourself in half and cry out his name as he touches you in the way that makes you see stars.

“Joon. Gonna-”

“I know baby me too.”

With one final wail of his name, your pussy clamps down, and you spasm as you cum hard around him.

Spots dance in your vision, and your entire body tingles as you feel Namjoon’s hips start to falter and he fills you up with shot after shot of his warm cum.

He’s saying something.

You’re almost sure of it.

But you can’t make out what it was over the blood pounding in your ears as you slump forward against his chest.

Your body feels wobbly as he pulls his spent cock from you, and you let out a wince when you feel the mess between your thighs.

“I…don’t even have words for that holy shit Namjoon.” You sigh as you nearly slip from the top of the washer, but his strong arms are there to catch you.

“Yeah. Me too.” He says as he presses a soft kiss to your head before scooping you up and carrying you bridal style to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

“You’re an animal, you know that?” You tease as you snuggle your face into his chest.

“Yeah, but you love it.”

He grins, flashing his dimples as he answers.

“Yeah. I do.” You respond.

Seokjin felt he got priority as the oldest of the group, picking a Thursday evening after all the guys were off work. It takes very little effort to convince Jimin to go for dinner with his friends, but it takes more effort to convince him to drink alcohol while they’re out. Still, ever-agreeable Jimin doesn’t want to disappoint his oldest hyung. 

So he orders himself a discounted margarita and tries not to make too twisted of a face when the waitress places it in front of him. 

Taking a bite out of a mozzarella stick, Jimin lets the stringy cheese pull away, instantly regretting the decision as the heat of the oil burns his tongue. Moving his attention from the mozzarella sticks to the electric blue frozen margarita in front of him, he uses his straw to stab at the slush on top. The drink's coolness soothes the part of his tongue that’s burned. 

“Tell us the rest of what happened, Jungkookie.” 

Namjoon props his elbows on the table and holds his chin in his hands. His bright eyes are eager as he stares at the man across from him. 

Jimin realizes he has zoned out of the conversation while trying not to make a face at the sourness of the margarita. So many of them are crowded around the table that it’s hard to keep up with all the side conversations. Right now, everyone appears to be focused on whatever Jungkook has to say.

The grin Jungkook flashes makes Jimin’s stomach flip. He continues sucking on his margarita; the slush keeps clogging the straw. He has to suck extra hard to get anything out, his cheeks hollowing and his lips puckering around the straw. Jungkook’s eyes flicker in Jimin’s direction, and he quickly releases the straw from his mouth, his face growing warm despite the cold drink. 

“You’re so dirty, hyung,” Jungkook accuses with a smirk that has Namjoon protesting until Seokjin is shushing him for being a baby. “Well, his head game was out of this world. I’ve never seen someone so eagerly gag on cock like he didn’t even need to breathe. But what really shocked me was his cock, though. It’s fucking massive.” 

Taehyung clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shakes his head. “I think we shouldn’t be talking about Yoongi hyung like this, especially when he’s not here.” 

Jimin inhales sharply and a piece of mozzarella stick gets lodged in his throat. It takes Taehyung slapping the shit out of his back for him to cough himself into shape. He’d had no idea that the person Jungkook was bragging about fucking was Yoongi. 

“How could he be mad at me? I’m only telling the truth,” Jungkook sniffles, his innocent pout slowly morphing into a grin. “If I was him, I’d be happy to know that my cock was being advertised so well.”

Seokjin lets out a loud snort. 

Jimin finds it concerning how Namjoon is hanging onto every word Jungkook utters. 

“ Anyway ” – Jungkook gives Taehyung a pointed look – “this whole time, I thought he would be a pillow prince. I was fully prepared to be doing all the work, but fuck was I wrong. We went so many rounds my dick is sore.” 

“Shhh, shut the fuck up; here they come.” 

Jimin follows Seokjin’s gaze to see Yoongi and Hoseok give the group little waves as they approach the table. Unsurprisingly, Yoongi chooses to slide next to Jungkook in the booth, even though the side Jimin is sitting on has more room. 

It’s not like Jimin and Yoongi aren’t like, best friends or anything. Not like they haven’t known each other for their entire lives, or anything. Nah. It’s fine. This is nothing to even think about, really. 

“Hey guys,” Yoongi says with the gummy smile everyone is so in love with. 

An image of Jungkook, sweaty and balls deep inside Yoongi, lodges itself in Jimin’s brain. 

Hoseok beams a greeting, quickly flagging a waitress to order more alcohol. They all know it’s a bad idea, but they let Hoseok do what he wants anyway. He deserves to let loose, even if it means becoming a zombie by the end of the night. 

The look Jungkook gives Yoongi makes Jimin taste bile in the back of his throat. He rips his eyes away from the plumpness of Jungkook’s bottom lip when his pink, wet tongue swipes over it while Yoongi watches. 

Jungkook is so tactless. 

Jimin can’t understand why Yoongi allows himself to get caught up in that type of behavior. Just seeing Yoongi tongue at the inside of his cheek when Jungkook’s hands disappear beneath the table makes Jimin want to throw up. 

Tactless and not subtle whatsoever. 

Jimin can’t believe he has to live with him. It was a split decision, agreeing to let Jungkook move in when his old roommate moved cities. Hoseok was the one who convinced Jimin to do it. “Jungkook is our friend!” Hoseok had said with a cheerful smile. 

The thing is, Jungkook has always rubbed Jimin the wrong way. Jimin doesn’t really know why. He just does.

Being roommates with Jungkook means Jimin is forced to spend too much time with him, especially when their other friends are busy. 

He’d be lying if he said Jungkook’s invitation to a secret rave hadn’t surprised him. Jungkook and Jimin rarely hang out alone. They had very little in common compared to their mutual friends, and Jungkook has a habit of making Jimin uncomfortable. It’s like he lives for finding ways to bother Jimin.

But this time, Jimin vowed to make an effort. After Hoseok’s plea for Jimin to stop acting like he has a stick up his ass, he’s determined to be friendlier to Jungkook. 

Only for Hoseok. No other reason. 

They met up with a few of Jungkook’s other friends, so Jimin didn’t have to worry as much about being alone with him. Even better, they drank before going to the club. Pregaming is the only way to do events like this the right way; having a buzz from the start makes it more bearable, even if Jimin isn’t fond of alcohol. Hanging out with someone he isn’t particularly close to, one-on-one, makes Jimin nervous. Some liquid courage usually helps.

This time, the liquid courage helps a little too much.

“I'm so drunk. Why did you let me drink?” Jimin rubs his bloodshot eyes with his palms. It’s been hours , and all the drinking and dancing has finally worn Jimin down. He can barely think straight from the alcohol buzzing in his system. 

He’s also pretty sure he did acid with Jungkook and one of his friends, but he can’t remember. 

“Do you wanna leave?” Jungkook asks. 

The thought of Jungkook leaving him alone, drunk, at a nightclub makes Jimin’s anxiety spike, but he doesn’t want to sound desperate.

“Maybe get some fresh air?” 

Jungkook nods and follows Jimin through the sea of people dancing and crowding the bar where Jimin had sucked down a glass of water. It takes deliberate steps to get to the front doors, and the chilly air nearly knocks Jimin over, but he welcomes the sharpness that cuts through his intoxicated mind.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Jungkook points out once they’re outside.

“Well, I am so fucked up.” Jimin punctuates his statement with an uncharacteristic giggle. He feels like his heart is clawing its way up his throat, thudding against him, offbeat.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” Jungkook’s typical teasing doesn’t bother Jimin the same when he knows Jungkook is also drunk and high. Which is probably why one of Jungkook’s arms wraps around Jimin’s waist. 

A small sound of contentment hums from Jimin as he leans into Jungkook slightly, appreciating the extra body heat. The response is his body running on its own, Jimin’s inebriated brain struggling to swim through the slosh in his skull. In any normal setting, he would have never thought to even touch Jungkook, let alone nuzzle against him. Jimin closes his eyes, hoping the world would stop swimming with him, and all he sees is pulsating darkness.

“Umm, we could…” Deep swallow, clammy palms sliding against the thighs of his jeans. Where is the Jimin who normally radiates confidence? “Yeah, go home. If you want.”

“Is that what you want?” Even without the psychedelic lighting of the rave tumbling along inside, Jungkook’s expression sparkles against the night. 

Jimin’s gaze moves from his brightly lit phone to Jungkook. Calling a rideshare or a taxi, checking his bank app to make sure he has money in his account, or texting Hoseok that he is maybe dying–all are tasks Jimin can’t complete when he feels like he’s getting sucked inside of the screen. He feels like he isn’t making sense. 

“I want you.” Jimin’s words fall out of his mouth faster than his brain can keep up. He quickly looks back down at his phone, realizing his error as his cheeks grow even pinker. “To decide. Where we go.” 

“Hmm, is that so?” Jungkook purrs. The deep tone of his voice is unexpected, and it brings heat nipping at Jimin’s chest and up his face. 

“I–” 

Jimin lets out an audible gasp when Jungkook’s firm grip on his waist pushes him backward. 

“You want me ?” 

Jimin is sober enough to feel nervous looking at Jungkook in his darkened eyes, so he settles for Jungkook’s tongue poking just outside of the corner of his mouth. 

Jungkook smirks. “I can make a decision for you.” 

His lips are soft as they drag against Jimin’s. Jimin suddenly feels hyper-aware of his lack of chapstick, having left it in the jacket he chose not to wear out. As Jungkook squeezes Jimin's hips and shoves him against the wall, Jimin pushes the thought from his mind as quickly as it came.

Jungkook moves with a commanding sense of power that has Jimin easily malleable in his hands. Jimin gasps against Jungkook’s mouth when he feels the firmness of his chest beneath his fingers. Maybe it’s the drugs or the alcohol, or simply Jungkook , but Jimin’s brain splinters and shatters when he shifts his body, causing his thigh to brush against Jungkook's. And that’s when the reality of the situation hits him. 

Jungkook is hard. 

Fuck.

Jungkook’s teeth dig into Jimin’s bottom lip when he pulls away. He’s sure his mouth is now shiny and pink like Jungkook’s. It’s all Jimin can focus on as he attempts to blink away the dizzy feeling in his brain. 

Jungkook has one hand pressed against the wall beside Jimin’s head, the other squeezing his hip. Something about being caged in, the heat of Jungkook’s body burning against his, makes Jimin feel small. He doesn’t want to think about why he likes it. 

“I’ll get us a ride, okay, Jimin-ah?” 

“Yeah.” He breathes the only word he can get out, widened eyes scanning Jungkook’s face, too shocked to be embarrassed by how his chest is erratically rising and falling. He immediately lets go of Jungkook’s shirt after holding on so tightly his knuckles ache. He watches Jungkook pull up the app on his phone and struggles to keep his mind from wandering into the darkness that is Jungkook’s eyes on him every time he looks up. 

They burn into Jimin’s core.

How the fuck did they end up here? 

“You’re shaking.” Jungkook smirks as he leans in to rest his chin on Jimin’s shoulder as Jimin struggles to unlock his apartment door. “Do I make you nervous, Jiminie?” 

Jimin is barely holding it together with Jungkook’s cheek brushing against his neck. He flip-flops between wanting to pull away and wanting to lean further into him.

“I don’t get nervous,” Jimin says. 

The statement is flat, and nowhere near as convincing as Jimin hopes. Maybe even laughable, with his pink face and his heart pounding in his throat. It doesn’t help that his fingers fumble so terribly with his keys that he drops them and has to quickly bend down to scoop them up.

Finally getting the door unlocked, Jimin kicks off his sneakers (proper house etiquette present even when fucked up) and turns a bit too quickly on his heel. His socks slip against the wooden floor as he wobbles to stay upright.

“What’s up?” Jungkook’s voice is filled with amusement, and his eyes are bright despite being bloodshot. 

“Do you ever feel like you’re not real?” Jimin stares at Jungkook, unable to pull himself out of the darkness of his pupils. He asks the next question quietly, just like the first, muted enough for only Jungkook to hear. But there is only Jungkook. “Or like you were meant to be someone else?”

Before Jungkook answers, Jimin brings his free hand against the back of Jungkook’s head to pull him into another kiss, this one harder and heavy with the weight of knowing he shouldn't be doing this.

A broken, pathetic whimper comes from somewhere inside Jimin when Jungkook grinds his hips into his, making their cocks drag against each other through their pants. The feeling is unlike anything Jimin has ever experienced. Kissing Jungkook is safe; Jimin can pretend he’s kissing anyone. But to feel Jungkook’s cock hard against his own, shifting to press against his thigh, then moving back again… There’s no denying what he’s doing, and there’s no denying who he’s doing it with.  

Reaching between their bodies, Jungkook rubs his hand over the bulge in Jimin’s jeans and another whimper escapes Jimin’s lips. The sound is so loud and pathetic that it startles him, but Jungkook seems to love it. 

“What was that, Jiminie?” Jungkook asks with a smirk. 

Heavy panting is all the response Jungkook is going to get from Jimin, especially when his other hand drops to unbutton Jimin’s jeans. The pressure of Jungkook pulling his zipper sends dull shocks of electricity through Jimin’s cock, making it twitch uncontrollably. He’s never been harder in his entire life, and he hates it. 

Does he hate it? Jungkook is so…

“You’re so fucking hot.” 

Jungkook verbalizes what Jimin can’t. Then he does exactly what Jimin is scared of: he curls those cute little fingers around the edge of Jimin’s jeans and tugs. 

“Mmm, hyung , why have you been hiding such a beautiful cock from me?” 

Jimin feels his face burn with heat so searing he thinks he might pass out. 

Jungkook presses his thumb against Jimin’s slit to smear the beads of precum around the tip. The gentle massage is enough to make Jimin buck forward. 

“Fuck,” Jimin whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“You’ve never done this before, have you, hyung?” Jungkook’s breath is hot against his ear. The deep chuckle that punctuates his question hints at the devious smirk he wears. “Never had another man touch you.” 

Jungkook clenches Jimin's cock. He’s leaking so much that working up a steady rhythm is easy. Jungkook drags his fingers through Jimin's hair with his free hand, pushing his bangs up and securing a solid hold on the soft strands. He tugs hard until a moan tumbles from Jimin’s pretty lips. 

“Not going to answer me?” 

Shame burns into Jimin’s cheeks and mixes with the unfortunately undeniable lust wreaking havoc on his body. “No, I’ve-I’ve, n-never–” Jimin moans, shocked to hear his voice come out with so much need. 

Jungkook hums with a bite of his bottom lip, eyes twinkling. “So I’m special .” 

Jimin tries to nod, but Jungkook’s fingers are still tight in his hair.

“You have such a pretty cock. So soft and heavy, with such a cute little curve, hm?” Jungkook swipes his thumb over Jimin’s tip as another bead of precum dribbles out. Then, with the liquid smeared on the digit, Jungkook locks eyes with Jimin as he sticks out his flattened tongue and presses his thumb against it. “Taste good, too, baby.” 

Jungkook tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. He keeps his eyes trained on Jimin but allows his body to sink slowly until he is on his knees in between Jimin’s legs. 

“Wanna choke on your cock. Will you let me? I promise I’ll do it better than those boring girls you’re always bringing home.”

"Jungkook," Jimin whines as he squeezes the base of his cock. 

He parts his lips slightly and drags the head of Jimin’s cock over his mouth, rubbing his precum like lip balm. When he seems to have enough, Jungkook lets Jimin’s cock rest on his face as he laps his tongue at the underside. Occasionally, he drops further to suckle Jimin’s balls, tonguing the smooth skin. In everything he does, Jungkook maintains eye contact with Jimin. His normally sparkly eyes are dark and lidded; the expression makes Jimin’s cock throb harder. 

“Yeah, hyung? Want your cock in my mouth?” Jungkook teases. “I want to hear you say it. Ask me to ruin you like a good boy, okay?” 

Waiting for his response, Jungkook swirls his tongue around the tip of Jimin's cock. 

"Oh god," Jimin sobs. He reaches down to dig his fingers into Jungkook's shoulders and tries not to buck his hips into his face. His mind is screaming at him to relax, to think this all through because every ounce of this interaction feels laced with the promise of regret. But his mouth is speaking before his brain can keep up. "I want it." 

Sliding his hands up Jimin’s thighs, Jungkook grabs his ass cheeks and pulls his body flush against his own. In one swift motion, Jungkook swallows Jimin until the head of his cock rams against the back of his throat. His moans make pleasure ripple through Jimin’s abdomen.

Jimin’s legs shake and he grabs Jungkook’s shoulders to steady himself. “I’m- I’m…” 

Jungkook's jaw goes slack as Jimin gasps, feeling his nose press into his abdomen. No one has ever taken Jimin all the way like that before. Jimin can feel Jungkook swallowing around him, constricting and relaxing his throat muscles while humming against him. Jungkook's tongue against the underside of Jimin's cock has Jimin bucking forward. 

Instead of pulling away and scolding him as Jimin expected, Jungkook tightens his grip on Jimin's ass, rocking his body forward and forcing himself to gag.   

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jungkook.” A weak moan is the only warning that Jimin was quickly spiraling.

Colors blossom and then burst behind Jimin’s eyelids as he shoots his release down Jungkook’s throat. Every swallow further milks more of his cum until his cock is so sensitive that the head hitting the back of Jungkook’s throat makes Jimin tremble violently. 

“Jungkook, please,” Jimin lets out a strangled moan and weakly pushes Jungkook away from him by his shoulders. 

“Shit,” Jungkook groans once he sits back and stares up at Jimin with glassy eyes. “I wanna fuck you so bad.” 

Fear dances with desire in Jimin’s chest, stirring up his heart until it’s beating through his ribcage.

“I… I don’t think I’m ready for that. Not… not yet.” 

The disappointed look on Jungkook’s face makes Jimin’s heart shrivel up.  

“Okay,” Jungkook says softly, his expression eventually growing into a small smile. “That’s okay.”

The only sound in the room is Jimin’s heavy breathing as he attempts to calm himself down. 

After a moment, Jungkook stands up. He catches sight of himself in the mirror hanging in the hallway. If he wasn’t already struggling to breathe, Jimin would have had difficulty inhaling as he watches Jungkook smooth his hair and adjust how his jeans fit against his crotch. 

Jimin can’t know what Jungkook is thinking, but he thinks Jungkook looks beautiful.

“I’m sorry.”

Holding the side of Jimin’s face, Jungkook kisses away whatever other apologies he has lined up on the tip of his tongue. “Don’t apologize,” he murmurs against Jimin’s lips, providing just enough time for them to breathe before diving in again. 

Jimin thinks he likes the way he tastes on Jungkook’s tongue.

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