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dirty laundry

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Jungkook hates doing the laundry. There's just something about dirty clothes that, well, he's just not down for. Jimin, however, doesn't mind it, says it's relaxing. So here they are, packed in to the small laundry room in the basement of their building at 2:30AM because that's the only damn time it's free, Jungkook huffing as he helps Jimin sort out the whites from the colors, handing Jimin the small soap packs, crinkling his nose as they finally lock the doors and the machines hum into life, numbers beeping across their tiny screens.

38 minutes.

And counting.

Jimin heaves a satisfied sigh and leans back, stretching his arms over his head.

"And now we wait," he says, much too cheerful for 2:30AM, but Jungkook flashes him a smile. Because he can't not smile when Jimin is, even if he tries.

"And now we wait," Jungkook echoes, hopping up onto one of the machines and swinging his feet. He would ask to go back up to their flat and wait but he knows all too well that they'd both fall asleep and by the time they came back in the morning, their clothes will be either stolen, or all over the floor, because some tenants do not know the meaning of respect or personal property.

"We should play a game," Jimin says, grinning as he shimmies in between Jungkook's legs, resting his palms on Jungkook's thighs, eyes curving, lips curling, Jungkook's stomach turning because that look never bodes well, but in the best of ways.

"Yeah? What game?" Jungkook leans forward to drape his arms over Jimin's shoulders.

"Truth or Dare."

"What is this, high school?"

Jimin quirks an eyebrow, smile hitching into a smirk and Jungkook has to consciously regulate his breathing because Jimin has already thought this through and Jimin's plans always end up with the both of them oversleeping, waking up way too sore in places neither of them knew they could be sore in.

"Fine," Jungkook says, heaving a melodramatic sigh. He gives himself a second to mourn the loss of a good night's sleep but it's already passed 2:30AM so there wasn't much to lose anyway.

"You pick first," Jimin says, smiling too wide, too happy.

"Truth." Jungkook doesn't miss the slow ascent of Jimin's hands up his thighs. His stomach muscles jump as they come to a rest just shy of his hips.

"Do you like topping better, or bottoming?"

"What the f--" Jungkook almost yelps, cheeks flooding with color. Jimin rolls his eyes and laughs.

"What? I'm not allowed to ask my boyfriend what he likes better?"

Jungkook huffs again, eyes fixed firmly on a spot on Jimin's chest, before mumbling, "Topping."

"Why?" Jimin's voice is dripping in grease.

"No follow ups!" Jungkook's eyes snap up, wide and probably darker than they were before.

"You didn't answer straight off the bat, so I get another question."

"Since when was that a rule?"

Jimin grins, leaning up to peck Jungkook's lips, "And that's another question for me."

Jungkook sputters, biting his lip to keep from snapping again, mulling over his answer.

"Cause... you look... good..." Jungkook's cheeks are about to burn right off his face.

"How good?" Jimin's fingers are skimming Jungkook's hipbones, thumbs making light circles just above the drawstring of his basketball shorts and Jungkook's brain is short circuiting itself in the motion. He meets Jimin's eyes and god, his pupils are blown, huge and so dark they could swallow Jungkook right up and it feels like they are when Jimin is looking at him like that. Like Jungkook is the only thing he'd ever look at properly again the only thing he'll ever see, has ever seen. Jungkook swallows and lets out a breath that skates over Jimin's lips, the rumbling of the washing machines swelling around them, the metal warm under Jungkook's ass.

"Too good."

And then Jimin is kissing him, pulling him down by the collar with one hand, the other splaying across his stomach, Jungkook melding and melting into Jimin like he always does. Jimin is the warmth he seeks out when his eyes are closed and the world is too dark for light. But right now, Jimin is tracing the sun into the skin of his hips, dragging him forward till he slips off the lid of the top of the washing machine and his feet hit the ground hard.

Jimin nips at his lips, giggling against them. Jungkook nips back, instinct kicking in as he tries to back Jimin into the opposite row of dryers because Jimin is usually so pliable, so easy to back into things, so easy to spread out beneath him and work apart till they're both shaking. Not today, it seems, because Jimin grinds his hips back against Jungkook hard enough to draw out a moan and his ass hits the washing machine again, a soft whine working its way from Jungkook's mouth to Jimin's.

It would be embarrassing, really, how fast Jungkook is hardening against Jimin's thigh, with Jimin's tongue running against the back of his teeth, hands roaming up his chest and back down, flicking at his nipples the way that has his knees giving so he really does have to lean back against the washing machine for support. Jimin's thumbs trace the v of Jungkook's front, following them down, down, passed the waistband of his shorts, till they stop right above Jungkook's dick and Jungkook lets out an impatient little moan. It is amazing, really, how much of his willpower Jimin can work out of him with just his mouth and his hands.

He feels Jimin grinning against his lips, feels Jimin pulling back, sucking his bottom lip till it stings before letting it go, thumb running the length of the underside of Jungkook's dick. He lets out a clipped gasp, head falling forward onto Jimin's shoulder. Jimin coos.

"What do you want, Jungkookie~?"

Jungkook often forgets how huge of a tease Jimin is. He forgets just how torturous it is when Jimin takes the lead because Jimin knows Jungkook better than anyone else, knows how to push every single button to have Jungkook just where he wants. And most of the time, it isn't the bed.

Jungkook whines into Jimin's collar, fingers digging into Jimin's back.

"C'mon, just tell me what you want," Jimin says, the grin clear in his voice as he gives Jungkook's dick a good pump, and then another. Jungkook's hips snap into Jimin's hand, only to have his other pin Jungkook's hips back against the washing machine.

"W-want you to get me off."

"Hm," Jimin lets the syllable run, the sound thrumming through his skin straight to Jungkook's lips where they're rested against his neck, "What do I get in return for it?"

"Holy shit," Jungkook hisses as Jimin presses his thumb into Jungkook's slit, hard, "w-whatever you want--god Jimin just--"

"Oh~" Jimin's hand pauses and he pulls back, eyes shining, still smiling too bright, much too bright for their current situation.

Jungkook groans and Jimin smiles impossibly wider.

"I wanna top."

Jungkook's stomach twists and drops and twists and drops till it rests heavy somewhere below his pelvis and he's sure his dick had just kicked in Jimin's hand. He tries his best to frown.

"You make it sound like I've never let you top before."

Jimin grins, hand resuming its previous pace and Jungkook has to clamp down on his lips as the sensation washes over him, pleasure shooting up his spine to pool at the base of his neck, then all the way back down again. "F-fine, okay--oh god--faster--"

"Good," Jimin says, hand disappearing completely and Jungkook starts, wondering what the living hell Jimin has in mind when he feels hands on either side of his hips, firm and strong (he always forgets how strong Jimin is too, all condensed muscle; and yes, in fact, Jimin does lift. Quite a bit too), turning him over so his back is facing Jimin, a hand coming up to press up against the long of his spine so his stomach meets the top of the washing machine. He feels Jimin give his shorts a tug, the elastic falling to his thighs, hears plastic tearing and then almost shouts when he feels Jimin's fingers, all lubed up, pressing up against his hole, massaging in soft circles.

"Mother of fuck, Jimin--" he tries to look back over his shoulder but Jimin's fingers are prodding at his entrance and by god, his forehead is thumping against the warm metal of the washing machine, the vibrations echoing through his entire body. Jimin leans over Jungkook's back, pushing his shirt up far enough to kiss a line down his spine, fingers still working at the soft flesh between Jungkook's asscheeks, occasionally dipping a finger in before pulling it out.

Class A Tease. Always.

Jungkook lets out a frustrated moan. "Jimin please." His nails are scratching at the metal and at this angle, he doesn't exactly have the kind of leverage he needs to push back into Jimin.

Jimin hums, hand coming round Jungkook's front to wrap around his dick again, giving it a couple of good, hard, pumps.

"What do you want, hm?" He still sounds too light, too cheerful, too blasé about this whole thing and Jungkook is two seconds from turning around and slamming Jimin into the dryers to have his way with him. But then, with no warning at all, Jimin pushes two fingers into Jungkook and pumps hard, middle finger finding his prostate and massaging it in quick little movement. Jungkook's mouth falls open and coherence leaves him in one, shaking, shivering breath.

"Fuck, fucking fuck me already," Jungkook grits out, squeezing his eyes shut as his muscles tense till it's almost painful.

"Damn, didn't know you could be this needy," Jimin says, leaning forward to nose into the back of Jungkook's neck, letting his breath wash across Jungkook's skin, teeth skimming over the sensitive spot right were his spine and neck meet.

As if to illustrate that yes, he can indeed be this needy, Jungkook clenches around Jimin's fingers and hears, with a dull, throbbing satisfaction, Jimin groan into his shoulder blade. There's a short pause as Jungkook feels Jimin pull his hands away for probably more lube and a condom. He is right, because the next moment, he feels Jimin's head pushing up against him and sucks in a breath, anticipation bubbling, curling and unfurling in his stomach, rising up through his chest till it is pushing against his voice box. He swallows and it surprises him how goddamn dry his mouth is.

"This is gonna feel really good, I promise," Jimin says, chin resting against Jungkook's shoulder again as he works himself between Jungkook's asscheeks, not quite pushing in just yet. Jungkook nods, eyes still shut against the impending shock of pleasure that comes but oh is it something else, because as he trusts in, Jimin wraps his hand around Jungkook's cock and presses the head against the vibrating metal of the washing machine. The sensation is almost crippling and has Jungkook yelping, entire body jerking as Jimin pulls back and snaps his hips forward again, hand working in tandem to his hips, each time pushing far enough for Jungkook to meet the washing machine. Jungkook had never know pleasure to be so painful before, stinging and stuttering and him losing track of all coherent thought, the heat numbing over his mind as Jimin fucks into him from behind against the machine that whirls and hums beneath them both.

"Shit--fuck--" Jungkook can barely get words out, Jimin's name broken upon his lips.

Jimin goes slow and then fast, and then slows down again, angling his thrusts just so, working till he's got Jungkook right on the edge before he pulls back and works Jungkook back down. It goes on till Jungkook is keening and begging--Jimin, please, please, godfuckin--just let me come, please--

Jimin pants, leaning up to tongue at Jungkook's earlobe, "You're right, the view is nice," he says as he runs an appreciative hand along the expanse of Jungkook's back, fingers tracing around the smattering of hickies he's left there, like tiny footprints mapping the landscape of Jungkook's muscles.

Jungkook whines and tries to reach back to pull Jimin's hips closer but Jimin just pins his arm to the side of his face and giggles. The fucker.

It's only when the washer hits the last spin cycle, whirring louder than ever, spinning the clothes to drain them of the water that Jimin picks up the pace in earnest, thrusts becoming short and fast, till Jungkook is gasping, gasping, begging, the sound of skin on skin echoing around the walls of the tiny laundry room.

"Sh-shit I'm gonna--" Jungkook doesn't get the full word out before Jimin thrusts in hard, and deep, and presses Jungkook's dick right against the surface of the whirring washer, now vibrating much harder than before and Jungkook comes with a yelp, his voice breaking, body shuddering as his nails scratch against the top of the washer. His muscles spasm as he tries to push away from the washer, the pleasure ricocheting through his muscles bordering on painful. Jimin is breathing heavy against his back as he pulls out and tired and fucked out as Jungkook is, he straightens from the washer, turning round to drop to his knees, fingers already pushing Jimin back against the dryers, ridding Jimin's dick of the condom.

He sucks Jimin off so hard that Jimin almost collapses against the dryers, his loud cry of Jungkook's name winding down to his little mewls and moans, so signature of Jimin. Jungkook wipes his chin clean of Jimin's cum and leans up to kiss him, arms bracing against the dryer on either side of Jimin's hips. The washer is beeping behind them--done.

"Where the fuck did you get that idea?" Jungkook asks, still breathing too heavy, his words coming out in broken fragments.

"Saw it in a porno," Jimin says, raising a hand to wipe at the edge of Jungkook's lip, grimacing as he smacks his lips. "I need to eat more pineapple."

Jungkook lets out a helpless laugh, nodding, "Yeah, you do," before leaning down and nosing into Jimin's shoulder. "You watched porn without me?"

Jimin tugs up Jungkook's shorts, and then his own, with a short nod. "You were gone and I was horny."

"You could've called."

"It was during that business trip you had to take to Russia. And you were probably asleep with the time difference and everything." He lets his hands follow the rim of Jungkook's shorts to the back, lacing his hands around Jungkook's waist.

"That one went on too long," Jungkook says, nodding.

Jimin makes a noise of agreement before turning to press his lips to Jungkook's cheek.

"So you saw the porno and decided to reenact it with me? That why you planned this and had the condom and lube ready?"

Jimin laughs and nods again, "Yep, thought of it after I got off."

"You weren't thinking of me during?" Jungkook pulls back with a tiny frown.

Jimin rolls his eyes, "Course I was. But I wasn't exactly in the mind to plan anything while I was jacking off and moaning your name."

"Guess not." Jungkook can't swallow the smile spreading across his lips. Behind him, the washer gives another long, indignant beep and both of them sigh.

"We still gotta wait for this shit to dry," Jungkook laments as he watches Jimin swap the clothes from the washer to the dryer.

"Guess we'll have to wait another half an hour," Jimin says in his sing-song voice, winking up at Jungkook as he slams the dryer door shut and leans up for another kiss. This time, Jungkook is the one grinning against Jimin's lips.

"Right, but I get to top this time."

"Fine, fine," but Jimin doesn't sound too bothered as Jungkook backs him into the dryer and bends down for a proper kiss.

And after that, Jungkook has decided that doing laundry really isn't all that bad. In fact, he might even be starting to enjoy it.