Yoongi is reluctant to stay in the outfit any longer than is completely necessary. They've had their fun with it, filmed the clips they needed and he's embarrassed enough to last him at least another year or two.
He heads to the bathroom as soon as the shoot is finished, more than ready to take off the apron and slip out of the dress that they'd given him, that they'd actually convinced him to wear. In the grand scheme of things, it's a light punishment, no worse than what any of the others have faced in previous filmings, but more than anything, Yoongi just wants to be alone, to get back into his normal clothes and to go back to the dorms and relax.
This naturally means that he's gotten as far as removing the headband and unbuttoning the apron before there's a knock at the door, immediately followed by Jimin's entrance. Sometimes Yoongi wonders why Jimin even pretends to treat him like a hyung, when half the time it feels like the reverse.
The way Jimin's looking at him now, for example, makes Yoongi feel self-conscious, makes him want to adjust the hemline of his skirts in something like modesty. It's an effort not to do so, and his hands go to remove the mic pack instead, but Jimin's eyes track the movement like he knows exactly what Yoongi had meant to do.
"What is it, you brat?" Yoongi asks, and he's good enough at controlling his voice to not let the embarrassment slip through. Jimin's smirking and Yoongi knows he's a sight; his apron is half unbuttoned and his hair has been mussed up. He wants to fidget, or maybe finish getting changed, but there's no way he's doing that with the way that Jimin is still staring.
"Jungkook was right, hyung," Jimin eventually says. "I'd probably let you be my girlfriend too."
He's leaning back against the wall, casual as anything and Yoongi has to swallow down the rebuke that had been building in the silence, suddenly too aware of the way Jimin is filling up space in the small room. Probably? he wants to ask, but doesn't, and Jimin keeps talking.
"You do look very pretty, hyung. Don't you agree?"
He pauses, as if waiting for Yoongi's response and-
It's no secret that Yoongi is comfortable with his body - he's bragged more than once about his legs, and as much as he jokes about it, the exercise that's been kept in their schedules means that even if his abs have faded, he still thinks looks good.
Thinking it and admitting it, however, are two very different things.
He scowls at Jimin, crossing his arms over his chest, and then unfolding them when he realises it just draws more attention to what he's wearing.
"I'm not pretty; I'm busy. Go away, hyung is changing."
Turning his back to Jimin, Yoongi hopes it's enough to get him to leave, but it's hope wasted.
"Yoongi-hyung," Jimin says, and then there's a hand resting on his shoulder, weighty in the silence.
He can feel his heart beating and wouldn't be surprised if Jimin can feel it too, his fingers pressed up against Yoongi's neck. Yoongi swallows and lets Jimin turn him back around so that they're facing each other. He can feel himself blushing, heat spreading down his neck and beneath his clothes, following Jimin's gaze on him.
"I just want to make sure you know how pretty you look."
Jimin's fingers trail inwards to brush along the collar of Yoongi's apron and he has nothing to say now - no rebuke, no comeback. Normally, he prides himself on thinking on his feet but now, Yoongi can't find any words. It's all he can do to stop himself from voicing his surprise when Jimin reaches behind him to undo the bow of the apron, movements sure.
"I want you to remember, hyung," and he pushes the fabric of the apron up and over Yoongi's head, taking care not to shift the dress beneath it. "I want you to remember how you look now, and how I can make you feel."
Right now, Yoongi is feeling almost delicate, like the lace that edges his sleeves, like the skirts that brush the bare skin of his thighs, just above the knee. When Jimin pulls him closer, it's gentle, as if he's worried Yoongi will startle, will pull away.
The thing is, he doesn't want to. Yoongi can't bring himself to pull back, even when Jimin's lips brush against his, soft and warm; it's almost as if he's testing the waters, kissing Yoongi once, twice, then again when Yoongi starts to kiss back. He leans in, angles his head slightly, and Jimin kisses him deeper as a response. Yoongi wants, needs Jimin to keep kissing him, because otherwise his mind might get a grip on itself and remind him of the situation they're in. That he's the hyung. That he's still wearing a dress.
Yoongi doesn't notice Jimin has been walking them backwards until he's up against the wall, and his hands go out to Jimin's waist to stabilise himself. Jimin pulls back, a break to let them both catch their breath, and he's still got that damned smirk on his lips.
"You're a good kisser," he says, but it sounds almost condescending, as if he didn't expect Yoongi to know what to do. "I'd like to kiss you again."
He still can't find his words but it's not like Jimin gives him time to say anything, leaning in again to kiss him, open-mouthed this time. It's more aggressive, and this is what Yoongi wants - Jimin's lips parting beneath his, the feeling that he's in charge. He's still got his hands on Jimin, gripping tight when their tongues brush, tighter when Jimin sucks on Yoongi's lower lip.
Jimin's hands, though, are wandering. He's got one on Yoongi's waist where the dress pulls in, the other lower, past his hips and Yoongi gasps, pulling back, when his fingers reach Yoongi's thigh.
"Soft," mutters Jimin, and he's kissing along Yoongi's jaw, lingering at where it meets his neck, and that will definitely leave a mark.
Yoongi can't stop the way he's breathing, harsh and loud when the only other noise is the sound of Jimin's kisses, wet and hot against the bare skin of his neck. He stutters out a breath as Jimin reaches his collarbones, then loses it completely when Jimin drops to his knees in front of him, hands wrapped around Yoongi's thighs.
"Wha- what are you doing?" Yoongi says, his mind struggling to string together words when Jimin's smiling (not smirking, but smiling, eyes crinkled like it's his pleasure to be on his knees for Yoongi).
Jimin hums, like he's considering his options and he starts to stroke, back and forth, at the sensitive skin behind Yoongi's knees. It doesn't make his legs go weak, but it's close.
"Well, I could eat you out," says Jimin, after he's had time to think - when Yoongi's so close to giving up, pushing a hand under his dress and jerking himself off.
He says it casually, like it's something he'd offer to any of their members, and maybe it is; Yoongi doesn't know what Jimin gets up to on his own time.
Jimin's fingers are tracing higher, closer to the edge of Yoongi's underwear and he speaks again. "Hyung? Would you like that?"
Yoongi doesn't shiver - Suga wouldn't, not when it's just words, but a part of him, under the stage persona that he puts up, underneath his defences, arches slightly into Jimin's touch.
"No, maybe not," Jimin says, and he presses Yoongi up against the wall. "We'll save that for another time, I think."
"Just- get on with it, Jimin," and the words sound like annoyance, but Yoongi's voice is begging, asking for more, please.
There's a kiss to his bare skin, the strip that is peeking out between his dress and his knee highs, and it's as if Jimin is trying to calm him down and work him up all at once. Yoongi's hands, before hanging loosely at his side, go to Jimin's hair and tug, and Jimin gets the message.
"Okay, okay," he laughs, lightly, before bringing his hands up properly, underneath the skirts of Yoongi's dress, and pulls at the waistband of his boxers.
For a brief moment, when they'd shown him the outfit, Yoongi had thought that maybe he'd have to wear panties underneath it. Small, ones that would cover his ass but barely hold his dick, soft cotton on his skin. Of course, he didn't have to - it was obvious that he wouldn't, and the thought passed as quickly as it had come into his head, but now Yoongi wonders if Jimin would have liked it better that way, preferred something sweeter, prettier than the dark grey boxer-briefs he's tugging down Yoongi's thighs.
He's not sure how it'll work, at first - if he'll have to hold the skirts up, or if the dress will come off completely - but then Jimin's ducks in, underneath the layers of his dress, and it doesn't matter so much to Yoongi because all he can think about, all he can feel is Jimin's mouth on his cock, still soft lips against the head of it. Yoongi wants, so much, to see what he looks like, whether Jimin's lips are red yet, whether he's got precome on them because Yoongi is wet with it, slick and slightly bitter on Jimin's tongue. He can't see anything though, just the way his skirts are bunching up, Jimin underneath them, sucking Yoongi off.
Jimin's hands are still wrapped around Yoongi's thighs, keeping them spread and he has to look up, away from the curve of Jimin's back, the drops of sweat that are beading at the nape of his neck, because Yoongi knows if he keeps watching, he'll end up coming before Jimin has the chance to take him more than half way. His hands tighten in Jimin's hair when he goes down further, mouth warm and wet, and he squeezes his eyes shut, tries not to pant too loudly. It crosses his mind that he can't remember Jimin locking the bathroom door behind him and Yoongi hopes to God that the others have gone ahead, left them behind for once.
When Jimin takes him even deeper, Yoongi bucks up, hips pushing forward on instinct and it's only the barest amount of self-restraint that stops him from choking Jimin. He pulls off, lets go of one of his legs and uses that arm to brace himself on Yoongi's hips, effectively pinning him to the wall.
"Hyung," Jimin whines, his voice raspy. "I still need to sing tomorrow. Let me look after this. For you."
Yoongi finds himself nodding, all he can do when he's still got one hand fisted in Jimin's hair, the other on his shoulder, trying to get him to go down again.
"Be good," warns Jimin, and it would sound ridiculous if the entire situation weren't impossibly more so. Jimin's on his knees in the bathroom of a cafe, sucking Yoongi off
because he's while he's wearing a dress, and he's telling his hyung to be good.
It turns out that Yoongi can be good, if it means staying still, pushed up against the wall by Jimin's weight; he doesn't fuck Jimin's mouth, as much as he wants to do it, just lets him take his cock at his own pace, swallowing him down, then coming back up, tongue tracing the underside as he pulls away. Jimin builds up a rhythm, mouth wrapped around Yoongi's dick, bringing a hand up to jerk him off when he takes a break to breathe. It's almost too much, Jimin and his mouth and just knowing that he probably won't be able to look him in the eye the same way again.
Yoongi can feel his pulse racing, knows that he's getting closer and he wants to warn Jimin, opens his mouth to stutter, "I-" but then Jimin is holding back, pulling off until it's just his lips around the head, sucking lightly, tip of his tongue doing something that makes his mind blank, makes his grip tighten, makes his hips push forward even with Jimin holding him back.
He swears, then bites his lip when he realises how loud he's being because they're honestly pushing it now - Yoongi never takes this long to get dressed, and Jimin doesn't even have a reason to be missing.
"You've got to- you have to stop," Yoongi hisses at Jimin, trying to tug him back, words and actions warring with what he really wants - to come down Jimin's throat.
He doesn't get a choice, either way, really, because Jimin decides that stop means suck me off harder, wrap your lips around my cock, make me come and Yoongi honestly blanks out, finds himself coming around with Jimin still kneeling in front of him, sitting back on his heels, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand.
Yoongi swears again, and Jimin smiles, like it's a reward to hear his hyung wrecked by him. Still leaning against the wall, Yoongi does his best to reach down and pull up his underwear, noticing that at some point, his socks have slipped down. It's one less thing he has to worry about changing out of, maybe, since they've really got to get a move on. Soon. Eventually. Jimin's just staring at him, watching as Yoongi starts to unbutton the dress and then he realises that Jimin hasn't been touched the entire time, unless Yoongi missed it.
He waves a hand at Jimin rather loosely, offering with actions what he can't say yet in words but Jimin's getting up, and backing away, towards the door.
"You don't want me to-" and Yoongi pauses, brain finally clear enough to notice the way Jimin's holding himself, cautious and slightly on-guard.
"I'm- I'm okay, hyung," says Jimin, most of the bravado gone, "You should just get changed, I'll go on ahead."
Yoongi gets a creeping suspicion, one that's only backed up when Jimin starts walking awkwardly, his few steps crossing the small room. He's got a hand on the door before Yoongi thinks to speak up, to just confirm his thoughts.
"Did you just come in your pants?" Yoongi asks, cautiously. "You did, didn't you?"
Jimin says nothing, but he blushes and that's all the confirmation Yoongi needs. He's genuinely a bit surprised; as much as Jimin was into it, Yoongi's never heard of someone doing that, except maybe in porn.
"Just from sucking me off?" Yoongi continues with a smirk, and now he's the one teasing, encouraged by the way that Jimin starts to protest his innocence.
He's still talking when Yoongi walks up to him, only trailing off when Yoongi reaches over him to open the door, leaning in to whisper, still smiling.
"Don't worry," he says. "I like that. I like that a lot."