#ccjinri

crimson and gold swim together at his back, dripping where he walks: the red carpet walked in reverse. it trails behind him, stains him again ( except it’s his own this time, and not someone else’s ) and his head swims with only a single name coming up for air again and again. he follows where his senses drag him towards ( all roads lead back to her ), and he sees her just in time to see her fall to delusions and tricks. 

“no,” he finds himself saying, again and again until he finds himself more focused on catching her before she falls into it; an echo of the weights dragging down his limbs, keeping him from moving fast enough. beyond her, he sees a friend, and looks to him, but his hands are already reaching. he slips at the last minute, dislocated shoulder hitting the ground, and still --

she’s half-gone.

he scrambles to his knees, to his feet, one hand on his flickering blade, and the other --

by some miracle he reaches her hand as the darkness takes her, and he cannot is not strong enough anymore to pull her out. he looks to his friend again, and opens his mouth to ask for help, but --

It really did start off innocent, Jimin playing all sweet and smooth easy, popping the buttons on his shirt slowly and sliding it off his shoulders with dark eyes and hips rolling slowly, the fabric hits the floor silently. His jeans were riding way too low on his hips and with just a tug there was no doubt they’d be down, but he didn’t because Jimin knew how to play this game and he knew exactly how to work anyone up. 

Jinri was no different. 

It started off as innocent curiosity, but now Jimin was kneeling with one knee on the bed hand shoved down his briefs and fingers wrapped around his cock. But he wasn’t the only one too far gone-- just a little more obvious, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t change it. 

“Don’t be shy. It’s not like I haven’t seen a naked girl before--” He teased when her hand paused in it’s decent down as he spread her thighs and settled between them. And that was that. 

It was a little less innocent now, Jimin leaning back on one hand, fingers wrapped around his cock as he didn’t dare look away from how her dress has been flipped up, panties thrown somewhere or other and her own fingers pressed into herself and fuck, was it hot.

“God--” she gasped, cutting a glance to Jimin and he wasn't shy at all with his approving groan, hips jerking messily into his own fist. But there was only so much he could take. 

When the twitch in Jinri’s faltered not one, but twice, it was an obvious sign that had the dancer hunching over her, lips looking for hers as he mumbled, “Let me. I wanna feel you cum around my fingers.” She didn’t put up an argument, only letting him go as he pleased, slick fingers gripping his arm as he easily slid two then three fingers into her, groaning into her mouth at the wet heat and god, he could probably come from the desperate whine he fed her right there. 

But instead she just returns the favor and he can barely register the fingers wrapping around him, matching in time with his pumping fingers and this is obviously why people because strippers. For the hot sex. It was all clear now. 

“Jimin-- Jimin, I’m gonna... ah--” 

“Mm, go ahead. C’mon. Cum for me, Jinri.” He crooked his fingers up in her a little, relishing in her desperate whines.

And then that was all it took for her to be finished-- for her to dissolve into a needy shake and pitiful moans that he absolutely ate up. 

Another minute and he was grunting into her shoulder, meeting his end too at her hand as his hips jerked messily, pleasing tingles racing through him. 

It was a little more innocent now, Jimin sitting on her bed in nothing but his underwear, terribly belting out the lyrics (or they were just bables. who knows) to yet another Rihanna song as Jinri was milling about her room again and all was calm and nice, and stated. 

Until skin met skin in a harsh slap to his shoulder. and Jimin was yelping and jolting up. 

Jimin couldn’t even argue. Trying to slide over the shiny countertops in an attempt to pull off the perfect bad boy look (to go along with the grease song playing over the speaking of the dinner or course,) he had knocked his elbow into his cup and sent it tumbling behind the counter, spilling pop everywhere. 

The pair sat for another minute, trying to mop up the puddle quickly seeping under the counter and into the cracks of the tile before he sat back again. 

“Have you ever made out with anyone back here?” 

Jinri slowly stopped her mopping of the water and dropped the sopping towel with a splat. It was a lost cause. They were just going to have to mop up the mess or else the floor would just be an awful sticky mess. The look she fixed him with was scathing and downright judgement as she joined him in leaning against the cabinets, watching the soda trail down the uneven floor. “What?” 

“No-- think about it. Those stupid hipster movies and shit, someone is always making out in a dinner at midnight and it’s--” A quick glance at his phone. “2 am, so that’s close enough.” Fingers reaching to tug on her sleeve until she finally conceded, heaving a sigh and shifting to sit herself in Jimin’s lap. 

“Don’t act like you don’t want to make out with me.” 

“I don’t.” 

But she was already leaning in, Jimin meeting her halfway and pressing his lips to hers, cutting off his laugh. Fingers thread through her hair and he hum in soft approval. 

It’s a thoroughly distracting affair until 20 minutes later there’s a banging on the front door of some late, hungry customers and the pair jolt so hard that Jinri bites right down on Jimin’s tongue.