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"Here, Jiminie, feel this."

Yoongi's voice is deep as always, a thick treacle of a sound that makes Jimin's insides warm and heavy, exactly like he's being sated by a rich dessert. He's even more affected by it than usual thanks to the cool silk blindfold tied neatly over his eyes. Without being able to see, without permission (until now) to touch all he could do was immerse himself in Yoongi's masculine, grounding voice.

Jimin wants to do as he's been asked, but he has no real idea where to reach out to, what to feel for. He extends his fingers obediently anyway, towards Yoongi who is a warm, comfortable weight straddled over his thighs. Yoongi slides slim, bony fingers over Jimin's shorter ones, stroking them as he urges them further from Jimin's body and towards his own.

Jimin can tell his fingertips have met with Yoongi's thigh, the muscle taut but the feel of his skin soft like it's new, never been touched. There are also strange ridges and grooves beneath his hand. They're solid but springy, moving as he probes at them.

"Do you know what it is yet?" Yoongi asks. Jimin can hear the amusement in his voice; his hyung really loves to tease. He shakes his head dumbly. He has no idea. He's blind and ignorant, and he just wants something to happen.

"Try like this," Yoongi says, mouth nearer to Jimin's ear, voice a breathy whisper. His hand engulfs Jimin's, cupping it gently in his palm, sliding it down his thigh towards his knee. Jimin can feel--

Jimin can feel a grid-like pattern in the texture of whatever he's touching. The thing down Yoongi's leg that he's wearing, which still allows all of his skin to come through.

Jimin's breath hitches. He has a sneaking suspicion he knows what it is, but would his hyung ever wear something like that?

"It's fishnets, Jiminie," Yoongi says huskily into his ear. Jimin feels his mouth fall open and a desperate, whimpering moan skitters out. "And-"

Jimin suddenly feels a cool plastic-like sensation on his inner calves. Yoongi has hooked his ankles inside. There are shoes on his feet. High-heeled shoes. Jimin feels the hard, sharp line of stiletto heels pressed against his leg muscles.

"Oh, oh fuck," he chokes, bucks, and precome spreads a dark stain across the front of his underwear.

Yoongi chuckles.

"You're so predictable," he hums, leaning down to nuzzle Jimin's cock through his underwear. He drags his barely open mouth over the wet spot on the fabric, lightly working his lips over the head of Jimin's cock through them. "You love me in women's clothing."

"Your legs are so pretty, hyung," Jimin insists, grabbing for his thighs and trying to pull him closer, tighter, to have the press of diamond patterns blossom on his palms. "Prettier than any girls', you'd be just as hot as a girl-"

"You're lucky I'm an idol," Yoongi says, the word punctuated but fond on his tongue. He can't ever truly hate or regret a life that's given him his bandmates, opportunities, or the complete freedom to explore his musicality that he has. "Or else I probably would have never worn any of these things."

And Jimin never would have known how he felt seeing Yoongi wearing those things.

Unfortunately he can't see it right now, either.

"But you have-" Jimin protests weakly. "You have, before, for photoshoots, and-"

"It's not the same as this, Jiminie." Yoongi's voice is heavy, final.

He's right. That's all for fashion and promotion, and not his choice of clothing. This is for Jimin. This is done to get Jimin hot and out of his mind worked up. This is Yoongi doing something private especially for Jimin. As vulnerable as Yoongi must feel wearing the stuff (why else include the blindfold?), Jimin has felt vulnerable this entire time knowing his hyung could exploit or make fun of his desires rather than indulge them.

But that's not Yoongi-hyung. Oh, teasing is, sure. He's teased Jimin about a million things a thousand different ways since they met, but never stuff Jimin is truly insecure about, like his voice, or how hard he works. He can jokingly call Jimin ugly onscreen a handful of times over the span of years because he never fails to tell Jimin every single day how beautiful and flawless he is behind the scenes.

"I bet you look amazing," Jimin says with a blissful sigh. He's not trying to guilt Yoongi into showing him, he just wants his hyung to know how beautiful he is too. "W-what are you-"

"Hmm?" Yoongi asks, leaning forward - Jimin can feel Yoongi's soft lower belly pressing against his own taut one. "Ask me what you want to ask me, Jiminie. I'm already doing this for you, it can't get more embarrassing."

"Don't be embarrassed, please," Jimin whispers. "I'm embarrassed about... how much it turns me on to have you in girls' clothes, you're not the one who needs to worry."

"Neither are you." Jimin feels a brief press of lips to his, a fond, chaste kiss. "I'm fine doing this for you. I'm just sure I look stupid without the wig and make-up and the rest of it."

Jimin can't help but giggle. "Hyung, it's you I want, not your aunt!" Yoongi had said he looked exactly like her all dolled up after all. Jimin can ask this. "I wanted to know what you... What hyung is wearing with the fishnets and heels."

"Not a dress, Jiminie," Yoongi's laugh comes out as a soft huff. "You like my legs, so they're the focus."

"No hyung, I meant-" Jimin clears his throat. "U-underwear?"

"Park Jimin," Yoongi's voice is a perfect blend of commanding and amused. "Are you asking me if I'm wearing panties for you?"

"U-uh," Jimin's voice cracks like he's undergoing a second puberty. "Uh, no?"

Yoongi doesn't answer him, that's the scariest thing. But he's still atop Jimin, his hands on Jimin's hips, until he's grabbing at Jimin's hands on his thighs and guiding them up and up and up until they touch fabric. Yoongi's boxer briefs, a little loose around his skinny thighs even though they're elasticated at the hem.

"Disappointed?" Yoongi asks. He tries to sound only curious, but Jimin can hear the telltale worry in his tone. He shakes his head immediately.

"No way!" He insists. "Somehow this is even hotter." And he means it.

"How?"

Yoongi clearly doesn't believe him.

"Hyung, it's-" Jimin babbles trying to find his words. He strokes Yoongi's thighs through his boxer briefs, feeling the garter straps attached the stockings beneath and forgetting to breathe for a moment. "It's even hotter that you're wearing them with your normal underwear, it's like you could casually wear them underneath your clothes anytime. Like, to surprise me."

"Jimin, I am not doing that."

"That's what you always say, hyung," Jimin hums happily. He won't push; the seed is sown, and Yoongi is so, so soft for him he'll give in to Jimin's dirty desire one day in the end. Just like he is right now. Jimin slips his thumb and forefinger up inside Yoongi's underwear and snaps the garter strap against his leg.

"Shit," Yoongi hisses, jerking on top of him. "Don't do that, you little brat!" He swats Jimin's hand sharply to bat it away. Jimin laughs.

"There's a belt to hold them up, right?" He asks delightedly. "Let me feel, hyung!"

Jimin may be blindfolded, but he's still able to grab at Yoongi's waist and feel at his stomach for whether his boxer briefs' waistband comes first, or the garter belt. Waistband, unfortunately, so Jimin has to tug the underwear down to sit low on Yoongi's hips. Then he thumbs over the silky garter.

"Sexy, hyung," he breathes. "So sexy. Boys wearing things normally meant for girls-"

"You're a kinky fucker about gender and clothes, I know," Yoongi says. Jimin was obsessed with being manly and muscled ever since joining the group, to lose his baby face and stamp out the insistence from everyone else that he looked like the real maknae of the group even though Jungkook had been as cute as a button too! But for all Jimin had been obsessed with the hyper-masculine, he also has never had trouble dancing girl group dances or wearing a dress as a penalty (because he knows he still looks good in it). And other boys in girls clothing is his bulletproof kink.

Yoongi takes it to another level though. Combining your foolproof turn-on with your hyung who you're totally in love with... It's mind-blowing.

Jimin can practically wrap his hands around Yoongi's tiny waist. Well, not really, because his fingers are short, and Yoongi may be flat stomached but he's broad-waisted, but Jimin can still hold him at his slender sides and pretend.

(How much begging and pleading would it take to get Yoongi into a corset, he wonders suddenly. A dilemma for another day.)

He holds Yoongi at the waist and thinks about how skinny and pretty his hyung is, finds himself writhing against the sheets and pulling Yoongi down by the hips to grind against him.

"Take them off, hyung?" Jimin asks, tugging at Yoongi's underwear. "Please?"

When Yoongi gets astride him again, sans the boxer briefs, Jimin flails his hands, grabbing for the garter straps up Yoongi's upper thighs and tightening his fists around them hard to hold him in place and rut his clothed cock against Yoongi's naked one. Stockings with a garter belt are great for that. It's also great how the straps are so taut over Yoongi's small but so tightly rounded ass, actually digging into his flesh. Jimin can only moan his approval, head thrown back, when he feels around to the back of Yoongi's body and discovers that.

"Can I feel the shoes too, hyung?" Jimin asks, wondering why his breath is coming in short, heavy pants like he's been at dance practice for twelve hours. Yoongi moves higher up Jimin's body, his dick sliding slowly up Jimin's stomach muscles and leaving wet little glistening smears of precome as he does so. When his legs are high enough, knees up under Jimin's armpits, he guides Jimin's hand to his leg just like before and allows him to finish trailing it down his calf himself to seek out the stilettos at the end. Jimin can't help but wrap his fingers around the stick-thin heel and tug like he's jerking it off slowly and sinuously. He throws back his head again and a throaty moan leaves his mouth.

"Filthy, Jimin," Yoongi insists huskily, obviously able to feel the gentle tug of the shoe trying to pull away from the sole of his foot. Jimin barely even hears him.

"What colour are they, hyung?" He asks desperately. He needs to build the mental image in his mind. Black, like the stockings probably are? Yoongi loves wearing black the most, so simple and elegant, and he never has to worry about his outfit clashing.

"Cherry red," Yoongi tells him. A guttural moan leaves Jimin's mouth. Bright red, like pretty, abused lips after taking in a delicious cock and sucking on it so eagerly. Bright red like a dick with a cockring on, after the torment for who knows how long of not being allowed to come.

"You did that on purpose," Jimin says, just so that Yoongi knows that he knows.

"Of course I did," Yoongi laughs. He's a self-proclaimed genius after all. "Now that you've felt them with your hands I think you need to feel them somewhere else."

Jimin knows what Yoongi is suggesting. He quickly reaches above his head for the headboard, because if he doesn't cling onto something solid and real he'll lose himself completely. He waits patiently as Yoongi gathers himself to his feet on the unsteady ground of the mattress beneath them, feels the merciless press of a thick shoe sole against his cock. It's hard and flat and insistent, and it could hurt or crush if Yoongi put more pressure on, was just a little uncaring. The thrill that runs through Jimin upon that realisation is like a shock of electricity.

"You want me to walk all over you, don't you, Jiminie?" Yoongi says, rocking his foot back and forth ever so slightly, teasing and toying with the idea of actually doing it. "You want to be crushed beneath these heels? You nothing but dirt on the ground?"

"Fuck," Jimin breathes, whimpers, begs. "Fuck, please, please. I'm nothing; I'm yours, use me, use me."

Yoongi hums approvingly. They share this strange sort of equilibrium where Jimin makes demands, but in such a desperately pleading way that he sounds less in control than he truly is. Yoongi would do just about anything for him, will take care of Jimin in any way he needs, give him the world if he asks.

He says nothing as he carefully lowers himself back into Jimin's lap, reaching for the lube and cracking open the cap. Jimin's heavy, anticipatory panting is all that can be heard, until the distinctly filthy squelch of lube being warmed up between Yoongi's fingers joins it.

"I'm gonna fuck myself on your cock," Yoongi informs Jimin matter-of-factly. Jimin's breath hitches, hands scrambling to grip Yoongi's slender thighs.

"Hyung, can I take the blindfold off now, please?"

Yoongi knows Jimin can't see but it doesn't stop him shaking his head as he tells him, "no," just to impress the denial twice. The blindfold stays. "Use your imagination, Jimin. This is about what you feel, not what you see."

"I feel that I want to see you!" Jimin says with a laugh. Even Yoongi can't resist smiling at that, circling his hole with a slick, teasing finger.

"I'll paint you a real good picture, Jiminie," he assures him. The room fills up with the weightiness of that promise, tension thrumming in the air. Yoongi gasps as he pushes the very tip of his index finger to breach his rim. Jimin's fingertips press harder into his flesh when he hears it. Yoongi knows his own body, knows how relaxed and ready he is right now even if arousal has his muscles all pulled taut. His entire finger slides inside himself long and slow, so slender except at every thick knuckle joint. He lets out a low moan the entire time, immersing himself in the feel of something inside, no matter how slim and ultimately unsatisfying. They'll get there eventually.

"Hyung, hyung, oh Yoongi-hyung, please," Jimin chants, cock obviously leaking a little onto his boxers again; hardly a surprise when Yoongi considers how much he's been taunting Jimin, and his Jiminie has been withstanding it, taking it like a champion.

"You can't-" Yoongi wants to sound more in control but he has to take a breath between words, "-rush prep, Jiminie."

He does maybe push the second finger in next to his first with a little more haste and recklessness than before though. He's only human. The sharp sting is just a goad to get to the pleasurable part sooner, and that means stretching himself just a little more. Yoongi moans audibly when he's rocking three fingers in and out of himself until the slide is smooth, tilting his body so that every time he draws his fingers most of the way out they brush over Jimin's lower belly; that way he can feel the wetness and the pacing of Yoongi's motions, not just have to experience it all only via sound.

If the way Jimin's hips thrust upwards impatiently is any indication, he's experiencing it all perfectly viscerally even without his sight. Yoongi chuckles, tries to cover to the way his arousal makes the sound catch in his throat.

"Want me so fucking bad, don't you?" He says, but even as he teases Jimin about it the thought of Jimin being so eager to seat his cock inside Yoongi spreads a deep satisfaction within him and he can't help but sigh. Yoongi betrays himself and his own desperation when he realises he's stopped fingering himself, is lifting up and curling fingers into Jimin's waistband to pull off his sticky boxers and have his achingly hard cock accessible, thick and hot in his grip.

With Jimin's cock in hand, slicking it up with a glide of his fingers, Yoongi feels like he's naked even if he's still in the stockings and heels. Everywhere he needs touch and the satisfaction of being filled he's wide open and bare, guiding Jimin into himself as he sinks down inch by inch and seats himself properly. He squeezes his thighs around Jimin's, mostly because the muscled girth of them is a stretch for Yoongi to be astride, but also so Jimin can really feel the fishnets pressing grooves into his skin again. Maybe Yoongi can only dance passably, and only because he's lucky enough to be able to coordinate his natural ear for sound with his limbs, but nobody can tell him he doesn't know how to thrust and grind and rock his goddamned hips with the most erotic rhythm. He can fuck like a pro. Jimin might take the gold medal for riding dick, but Yoongi would be high up in the rankings too. After all, it's just not his preferred position to bottom from; he likes getting positively pounded. Jimin's the one who's better at controlling the pace and bouncing enthusiastically when he's playing cowboy.

So honestly, it really doesn't matter that Jimin is blindfolded. Yoongi clamps his legs tighter and rolls them over on the mattress until he's beneath and Jimin has to plant his hands either side of him on the mattress to hold himself up. He looks adorably caught off balance by the switch in position, tilting his head to consider his equilibrium.

Yoongi decides to take the opportunity to hitch his legs higher, allow Jimin to bury himself back inside Yoongi deeper, and press the backs of the stilettos against Jimin's cheeks.

"Your ass is amazing, Jiminie," Yoongi says, probably not for the first time that day; he says it most everyday. He rolls his heel to feel it move beneath. "No matter how much you work the muscles it's always gonna have a jiggle to it, baby."

"Oh my god," Jimin gasps, or groans, or something, as one of the stiletto heels digs into his ass cheek to punctuate Yoongi's words. It's not rough enough to be painful, but oh damn is it right there pressing into his ass and sending little electric tremors through him that result in his hips thrusting and jerking forward harder. Yoongi grunts his approval.

"Yeah," he breathes, "go hard, Jiminie." He kicks a heel in time with Jimin's thrust. "Fuck me properly."

That's the way to spur him on. Jimin has no distractions, like looking at the eyelashes on Yoongi's face where his eyes have fallen shut in bliss, or the beautiful slackness of his lips as they speak a thousand silent 'oh's. He simply presses his forehead to Yoongi's chest and focuses on pistoning his hips hard and fast, rough but fluid, undulating waves of relentless pleasure. He doesn't keep his head lowered for long, curling an arm around Yoongi's calf and hefting him by the knee until Jimin's holding Yoongi's thigh up over his hip. The little extra stretch allows him to fuck right up against Yoongi's prostate. Jimin knows him too well.

There's an unforseen factor to Jimin being blindfolded that Yoongi only notices when Jimin is all but ramming his body up the bed with the beautiful strength of his thrusting; the only feature of his face Yoongi can see, let alone focus on, is Jimin's mouth. The full lips with the pouty lower one, the redness and sheen to them where Jimin has been licking them, biting back noises, and who knows what else. He has the most sensual, sinful mouth made for love that Yoongi ever seen, and right now it's framed and highlighted like a master work of art.

"F-fuck me, Jimin," Yoongi gasps out, letting every part of his body fall boneless with pleasure, but for his legs, his thighs clamped hard around Jimin's hips and his feet pressing the stiletto heels into Jimin's ass whenever he wants to punctuate a particularly good thrust. "Oh god, fuck me-"

"I am fucking you!" Jimin pants out. He's close; Yoongi can tell by the desperate whine to his voice, the focus he has to use to just form words.

"You are," Yoongi agrees, mindlessly saying whatever his mouth wants to without bothering to think it through. "You're fucking me so good, Jiminie, so good. You make me feel so pretty, baby; that's what you wanted isn't it? Hyung all pretty for you, to take real good care of-"

"Oh fuck, hyung!" Jimin yelps, and even though 'explosion' is a ridiculously violent word to use for an orgasm it does literally seem like Jimin shakes with the unrestrained force of it when he comes, blowing his load all at once and then coming to a dazed stop as though he's about to pass out. His sheer intensity is what pushes Yoongi over the edge immediately after, even though he isn't being pounded into anymore. Yoongi feels warm and wet and sated inside and out, and he has to reach up and cradle Jimin's face to ensure he's not completely checked out of their reality. Jimin nuzzles into the touch, humming his pleasure like a purring cat.

Yoongi laughs. "You had me worried," he says, gently nudging Jimin onto his side and making sure they pull apart slowly enough that he doesn't hurt himself. He gives Jimin a brief kiss. "Now stay right there so I can get out of this stuff and clean us up."

He's about to get off the bed when he sees Jimin's hand reach for the blindfold.

"Hey," he says, sliding back atop Jimin to pull his hand away. It falls easily. "I'm still not letting you see this."

"Hyung, noooo!" Jimin whines.

"Next time, Jiminie," Yoongi says, cupping one gentle hand over Jimin's blindfolded eyes as he hooks off one stiletto with the other. He can just manage to reach the other without switching hands, but the fishnets won't be so easy. He reluctantly lets go. "I'm watching you. Don't move a muscle."

Jimin obeys without further complaint, breathing settling into deep, easy exhales as Yoongi unclips the stockings from the garter belt and unhooks it before sliding the fishnets messily down his legs. He can unravel them next time, since he's definitely committed to wearing them again now. Only once he's pulled on some pyjama pants, been to the bathroom to wipe himself down, and grabbed a wet cloth to clean Jimin up with does he slide onto the bed and lift up the blindfold. Jimin beams at him when their eyes meet.

"I'll get some goddamn panties for next time," Yoongi mutters, wiping the remains of lube from Jimin's crotch, "and you won't have to wear the blindfold, so-"

Jimin cuts him off with an arm around his neck dragging him into a hard kiss before he can continue.

"Didn't take much to convince you, hyung!" He laughs, a tired wheeze in his voice. Yoongi smiles fondly at how fucked out Jimin looks and sounds. He's pretty thoroughly fucked to oblivion himself, but taking care of his dongsaeng is priority.

"Yeah, well," he says nonchalantly. "Maybe you convinced me you won't think it looks stupid."

"Really?" Jimin asks, voice so hopeful and bright. He presses a peck to Yoongi's mouth. "You'll look amazing, hyung. You're so handsome, and pretty, and sexy-"

"Yeah, yeah," Yoongi says, rolling his eyes. It's not that he doesn't think Jimin means it, it's just that Jimin is incredibly biased. The average person probably doesn't think any of that about him at all. "I'm already going to do it for you, you don't need to feed me compliments to sweeten me up."

"You know I'm not," Jimin retorts, burying his face into Yoongi's neck. He inhales a deep breath right from Yoongi's skin.

"Didn't I wear you out enough?" Yoongi demands. "Stop talking and go to sleep already."

"Okay, hyung," Jimin says. "Sexy stiletto hyung."

"Park Jimin-"

"Can I see them tomorrow?" Jimin asks. "Can I try them on? I bet I can dance just as well as usual in them!"

(And well shit, how is Yoongi supposed to sleep now when he's discovering a desire to have Jimin in heels strip-dancing for him that he never before knew he had?)

"Do what you want," he settles for, hoping it sounds grumpy enough to hide his suddenly renewed arousal. He tugs Jimin closer to show he isn't really annoyed, closing his eyes and letting the thought of Jimin's solid and shapely calf muscles paired with high heels completely fill his head.

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