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Good Boy

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“Is that comfortable?” Namjoon frowns, a crease appearing between his brows.

Yoongi hums in consideration as he tilts his head from side to side. “It's a bit thicker and heavier than normal pair of sunglasses, but it's not bad. The battery will only last for an hour anyway, so it's not like I'll be wearing it for long.” He shrugs.

“I guess so,” Namjoon concedes. “Will it stay on though? The last thing we need during a live is for the camera to fall to the floor.”

“It damn well better, it was supposedly made for recording outdoor sports,” Yoongi snorts. “But that's why I want to do a trial run with a pre-recorded video before we use it in a live.”

Namjoon nods in thought. “Good thinking. The viewers prefer the live streams though.”

“And they'll get it—in due time.”

Namjoon grins, leaning back on the bed and resting his weight on his arms. “Min Yoongi: consummate perfectionist.”

After one last fiddle with the settings, Yoongi slips the device back on his head and snaps his fingers at Namjoon. “We're rolling and time is money.”

Namjoon shakes his head with a snort before he schools his expression into something much more demure and timid. “Yes, hyung.”

Yoongi looks Namjoon up and down, licking his lips in consideration. When they're live, he'll sometimes take suggestions from the viewers—after all, they pay more if they get what they want—but there are no viewers now, he doesn't have a scene outline prepared, and they're not just having sex as themselves, so he's not entirely sure where to start. Thankfully, Namjoon knows him as well as he knows himself.

“Yoon-hyung, I need your help,” Namjoon whimpers pathetically, lowering his head slightly so he can blink up at Yoongi through his eyelashes.

Yoongi takes a step back to better frame his body. “What is it, Joon-ah?” he hums, raising a hand to pet Namjoon's freshly dyed locks (purple—a surprise winner for the poll they ran a few weeks ago). “Tell hyung what you need.”

Namjoon sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling it for a moment before he softly moans, “I'm so thirsty.”

“Thirsty for what?” Yoongi asks lowly, putting a rumble in his voice.

Namjoon licks his lips in that slow, deliberate way that always gets their viewers riled up. “Your cum,” he says shyly, dropping his gaze.

Yoongi hums. “Of course I can help you, but you need to work for it.” He takes a handful of Namjoon's hair, giving the short locks a sharp tug as he tilts Namjoon's head back.

“Hyung?” Namjoon winces. No matter how many times they do this, seeing the younger man in any kind of pain or discomfort always gives Yoongi pause. It's amazing that he hasn't caved during a live and broken the whole illusion. “Hyung, what do I need to do.” Namjoon prompts him when he doesn't speak.

His eyes are obscured by the lenses of the recording device, but Yoongi still keeps his gaze locked with Namjoon as he clumsily undoes the button of his jeans with his free hand. As he pulls his cock through the vent in his boxers, he slides other hand from Namjoon's hair, down to cup his cheek. “Use these,” he says, running his thumb back and forth over Namjoon's lips.

“Oh,” Namjoon breathes, the short puff of air warming the pad of Yoongi's thumb.

Smirking slightly, Yoongi cups the back of Namjoon's head. “Joon-ah?”

“Yes, hyung?” Namjoon blinks innocently.

“I told you what to do, but you're not doing it. Don't you like being my good boy?”

“Yes, hyung.”

Yoongi lightly presses his fingers into the nape of his neck—the signal for what he's about to do next. “Then do as you're told,” he grunts, pulling Namjoon forward until his cock is buried inside his mouth. By the way Namjoon's eye bulge out, Yoongi can tell that he's not just acting. It's a tricky one, this move—not to mention risky for the both of them. It's a favourite with their viewers, but they don't do it often.

“H–hyung,” Namjoon coughs as he pulls away.

As he settles himself, Yoongi takes a moment to step outside himself and consider the proportion of viewers that would be put off or turned on by—or simply neutral to—the saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth. They'd probably like it, the sick fucks.


Namjoon shoots him a sharp look.

“Joon-ah,” Yoongi covers his flub with a cough. Thank God this isn't live. “Don't make me tell you again,” he injects his voice with gravel and firmly grips Namjoon's chin.

“Yes, hyung,” Namjoon says softly, slipping back into character.

He doesn't really need to go all out—they've been on hiatus for three months, what's another week?—but Namjoon puts his heart into any task he takes on. It certainly hasn't been three months since the last time Yoongi was blessed with the pleasure of seeing Namjoon's lips wrapped around his cock, but it's always different when they're recording. Even now, when they aren't live, Yoongi can feel the phantom thrill of an audience—of prying eyes filled with lust and longing and envy.

“Joon-ah, are you even really trying?” Yoongi sighs in a bored drawl, desperately trying to keep the waver out of his voice. “That alone won't make me cum.” He clicks his tongue.

Pausing his sucking, Namjoon peers up at Yoongi through his lashes. If they were just being themselves, Yoongi would pull out and furiously rub himself off to that image, but he forces his body to remain still. From the glint in his eye, Namjoon knows just how difficult it is for him and he's having fun at Yoongi's expense. Which...fine. Yoongi will get his own in the live.

Tightly gripping the purple strands of Namjoon's hair, he bends slightly and growls, “Suck me off like you've been lost in the desert for a week and my cock is a tall glass of water.”

Namjoon's eyelids flutter at that and he lets out a groan that Yoongi knows is entirely involuntary. The vibration goes right to Yoongi's cock and sends shivers up and down his spine. He holds fast to Namjoon's hair to support his wobbly legs. That just makes Namjoon moan and groan even louder as he resumes his head-bobbing. Yoongi is already on the cusp of coming, he won't last much longer, but Namjoon kicks him over the edge when he fondles and squeezes Yoongi's balls.

“Fucking shit!” Yoongi gasps, all but sitting on Namjoon's face as he leans his weight on the younger man's hair for support. His eyes are clenched shut, so he can't see Namjoon swallow his cum, but he can feel it getting sucked up into the warm cavern of his mouth. When he can finally force his eyes open, he's greeted with the sight of Namjoon licking stray drops of cum on his lips.

“D–did you swallow it all?” Yoongi asks breathlessly. Before he can fall over, he stumbles over to the bed and sits on the edge.

“Yes, hyung,” Namjoon croons sounding very pleased with himself.

“Open your mouth,” Yoongi commands.

Namjoon complies. Aside from a white film on his tongue, his mouth is empty. Yoongi hums in consideration, thumbing the younger man's plump bottom lip.

“I was good for you,” Namjoon beams, his cheeks dimpling cutely. Yoongi grips the lower half of his face, forcing him to drop his smile.

“No, Joon-ah, you weren't,” he says simply. Namjoon frowns in real confusion. Yoongi squeezes his cheeks harder, making his lips pucker slightly. “I told you to use these—only these. You cheated.”

“Ah, hyung.” Namjoon blinks.

“No excuses, Joon-ah. You'll have to be punished.” Yoongi drops his hand from Namjoon's face.

“Right now?” Namjoon asks hesitantly, visibly struggling not to realign his jaw.

“No.” Yoongi shakes his head. They'll save that for the live stream. “You need to think about what you've done.” Internally, he screams at himself for saying such a corny line. Really, the best thing about this wearable camera is not needing to hide his cringing anymore. “Right now, I'll give you your reward for swallowing all my cum like a good boy.” Seriously, God bless the stupid pervert who suggested that they try this thing out.

“Yoon-hyung, what's my reward?”


Instead of replying, Yoongi smirks and gestures to the mattress with a jerk of his head. Namjoon cocks his eyebrow for a second before he catches himself and smooths out his expression. He lies on his back, but Yoongi slaps the side of his leg, signalling him to turn over.

“Hyung?” Namjoon glances back over his shoulder as Yoongi begins to grope his ass through his clothes.

“I'm gonna fuck you raw, Joonie, and fill you up with my cum.”

They don't fuck other people, won't even consider it no matter how many people beg for it, but Namjoon likes to set a good example so they use condoms nine out of ten times whenever they film. In private, it's another story. Ever since they first got tested together, they've forgone the use of condoms. It wasn't long after that before Yoongi sussed out Namjoon's little penchant for cumplay.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” Yoongi smirks.

The strangled curse that escapes Namjoon's lips as he drops his head to the mattress brings a shit-eating grin to Yoongi's face. He continues to run his hands over Namjoon's ass as he waits for a response. Soon enough, Namjoon mutters something.

“Speak up, I can't hear you, Joon-ah,” Yoongi all but sings.

Namjoon's shoulder blades bunch together before he lifts his head and whimpers, “Yes, hyung. Please.”

It's almost unfair, but Yoongi doesn't care. With final exams keeping them busy, neither of them have had the time for anything so self-indulgent since they went on hiatus. Yoongi kind of wants to just shut the camera off and fuck Namjoon without all the pretence, but then again, he'll definitely like to re-watch what he's about to do to Namjoon.

“Go on, then. Get naked.”

Namjoon is usually in some state if undress when they do lives, but even when he isn't, Yoongi will remove his clothes for him half the time. This time, Yoongi is too busy with shedding his own clothes to extend the courtesy. At this point, he knows for sure that most of this footage will be cut and re-filmed, so he doesn't put too much effort on staying in character.

“I was only telling half the truth when I said this was your reward. This is my reward too, Joonie,” he grins as he straddles Namjoon's long legs.

“Come on, hyung,” Namjoon groans, impatiently lifting his hips. Yoongi takes the opportunity to slip a pillow under him.

“In due time, Namjoon-ah.”

It says something about Namjoon's current state of mind that he doesn't so much as throw a look over his shoulder for the slip. He just whines and buries his face in another pillow. Chucking to himself, Yoongi lubes up his fingers, placing one hand on each of Namjoon's ass cheeks and using his thumbs to expose his crack. Namjoon's legs naturally spread a little bit wider. Yoongi leans closer and lightly blows on the puckered hole in front of him.

“Fuck, hyung, what are you doing?”

“Enjoying myself,” Yoongi quips before he licks a wet stripe up Namjoon's crack. Yeah, they're definitely not going to air any of this.

“Ah, y–you don't have to—”

“I told you, I'm doing this for me. Sit back and relax and let hyung work you over.”

Namjoon might have broken character, but he falls back into the role well enough as he goes pliant under Yoongi's tongue. It's only been about half an hour since Namjoon had his shower, but that slightly salty, slightly earthy taste is already back as Yoongi runs his tongue over his entrance. Yoongi could easily spend an evening like this, but he has another goal in mind, so he forces himself to pull away. Namjoon's muscles go slack in an instant, but he only gets a few seconds' reprieve before Yoongi is slipping two slick fingers inside him.

“Aaah–oh–ngh, hyung, please.”

Paying him no mind, Yoongi twists and angles his fingers until he finds what he's looking for.

“Fuck!” Namjoon's entire body jerks. Yoongi grins. Namjoon fists the sheets and rocks his hips into the mattress, moving Yoongi as he goes. Watching him lose control is so satisfying that Yoongi considers bringing him off like this before fucking him, but he changes his mind, writing it off as too much too soon. Some other time though.

“Alright, Namjoon, I'm ready to go,” Yoongi announces as he pulls out his fingers. Namjoon grunts something that could be 'finally' or 'fuck me'. Either way, Yoongi gives his cock a few quick strokes before he lines himself up and slowly pushes his way inside. “Shit...” It really has been far too long. Even before he bottoms out, Yoongi has to stop to collect himself. He only has a few seconds before Namjoon is pushing back, clenching his walls around Yoongi's cock. “Shit!

“You said you were gonna fuck me, so fuck me,” Namjoon pants, throwing a narrow-eyed glare over his shoulder.

“Alright, alright,” Yoongi grunts, pushing Namjoon's face into the pillow.

Readjusting his position, he kneels over Namjoon and starts moving with a slow rhythm. It's not too difficult to get into the groove, but he has to tightly grip Namjoon's waist to keep himself anchored. With each thrust, he makes sure to press Namjoon's groin into the pillow that his hips are propped up on.

“Yoongi-hyung, I've really missed you,” Namjoon whines, staring up at Yoongi out of the corner of his eye.

“ too,” Yoongi pants.

Namjoon sits up on his knees, the sudden movement making Yoongi choke. He pre-empts Namjoon before he can further disrupt his rhythm, shifting his hands to the back of Namjoon's neck and pressing his head down to the bed.

“No...I...let me...” Yoongi grunts as he rakes his nails down Namjoon's broad back and digs his fingers into his bony hips.

Digging his heels into the mattress, Yoongi speeds up his thrusts until he's just short of jack-hammer speeds. Namjoon throws his head back in a wordless gasp. His body trembling, he lets it drop. Aside from moving his right hand under his lower body, he doesn't move again. Yoongi wishes he had the dexterity to spare a hand to stroke Namjoon off himself, but he's already struggling to keep pace. He only lasts for a few more minutes before his orgasm finally hits.

He thrusts sharply one last time, burying himself as deep in Namjoon as he can go as he paints his insides white. Namjoon shakes with each spurt, his body reacting to the sensation and his own orgasm. Almost as an afterthought, Yoongi pulls out and watches in fascination as a white stream hits Namjoon's left cheek. Namjoon's hole winks at him and it's only a matter of time before the viscous liquid drips out in thick globs.

“Beautiful,” Yoongi sighs, and with that, he pulls the recording device off his face and tosses it to the floor.”

“Hyung, that was expensive,” Namjoon grumbles, flopping onto his side, his voice thick with sleepiness.

“Shut up, it'll be fine.” Yoongi clicks his tongue. “What kind of shitty sports camera can't handle a little three foot drop?”

Namjoon grunts wordlessly. He sighs happily when Yoongi curls up behind him, draping his arm around Namjoon's waist.

“It's good to be back.” Yoongi nuzzles Namjoon's slightly damp hair, pulling the taller man closer.

“Yeah, but I don't think half of that footage was useable,” Namjoon mumbles. “I mean, I wouldn't really want you eating my ass to be broadcast. Plus you called me by name several times,” he continues, the sleepiness gradually receding from his voice.

Yoongi chuckles lightly, running his fingers over the fine hairs on Namjoon's stomach. “Now who's work-obsessed? I don't ever recall saying that we had to get everything for the video in one take. It was a dry run, remember? We can just shoot more takes.”

“Hmmm, how many takes?” Namjoon asks, turning over so that Yoongi is faced with his sly grin, an unmistakable glint in his eye.

Yoongi smirks. “As many as we need.”

Namjoon's grin widens.



Taehyung jumps when he gets the long-awaited notification. In his excitement, he fumbles with his phone as he tries to send Jimin and Jungkook a message on the group chat. As he's sending his 'new video1!!' message, his laptop sings with a video call from Skype. He grunts in annoyance at the interruption of the feed, but he accepts the call and leans over his bedside table to grab his tablet.

“Are you watching?” Jungkook calls out, his voice high pitched from excitement.

“Of course, I am,” Taehyung replies, relaxing when he sees the introductory scroll still on screen. He would've just blocked the younger man for the day if he had missed anything. “Where's Jimin?”

“I'm connecting him now.”

Sure enough, in a few seconds, Jimin's sweaty visage pops up next to Jungkook's on the laptop screen.

“Hyung, why are you so sweaty? Did you run home from practice to catch the stream?” Jungkook giggles, shaking his head as he scrunches his nose.

“No,” Jimin pants, brushing his damp hair off his face with his hand. “I was in the shower. You know I hate to feel dirty when I—”

“Get dirty,” Jungkook smirks.

Jimin rolls his eyes even as his lips twitch into a smile.

“Hush, it's starting and—Yeeees!” Taehyung screeches as screen comes alive with the sight of Joon kneeling on the bed in nothing but a pair of white briefs, blindfolded, his hands bound at the wrist in front of him.

“Hyung, why are you being so mean to me? I've already apologised,” Joon pouts, lowering his head.

The camera moves closer to Joon, slightly shaky in the way that Taehyung immediately recognises from several other amateur POV videos.

“He's wearing the camera again,” he gasps.

“I knew it!” Jungkook crows. “I knew they would bring it back for the live stream.”

“Shush, I can't hear what he's saying,” Jimin frowns, flapping his hand in annoyance as he stares intently at the screen. Jimin was always one to care about the storylines, however half-assed they could be. In a few seconds, Taehyung is grateful for that.

“...with just an apology, Joon-ah. Viewers, what do you think? Should I forgive him or does Joon-ah need to be punished?”

Taehyung jumps and begins furiously typing in the comment box. “Punish, punish, punish,” he mutters as his fingers fly over the keyboard. The comment section explodes with similar goads and demands.

“Definitely punish,” Jungkook chirps.

“You guys are so cruel,” Jimin whines. “Poor Joonie...”

“Pfft, you say that, but we all know that you typed up some sadistic ass punishment that even they would baulk at,” Taehyung scoffs, turning back to his laptop to roll his eyes at his best friend.

Jungkook chuckles. Jimin pouts but doesn't deny it.

“Hmmm, I'd say there's definitely a consensus,” Yoon hums, stepping closer to Joon. “Our viewers have decided that you need to be punished, Joon-ah,” he croons, lifting his hand to Joon's face and running his thumb over Joon's bottom lip. “I agree.”

“Yes,” Taehyung grins, rubbing his hands together.

“As if there would be any other result,” Jungkook scoffs.

“But, hyung—”

“No buts. Now get your ass over here,” Yoon snaps, sitting down on the bed and slapping his own thigh. Joon whines in his throat but complies, crawling forward and draping himself over Yoon's bent legs.

“Do you think they practice this off-camera?” Jungkook mutters thoughtfully. “He knew exactly where to go even though he's blindfolded.”

“It's not that hard to follow someone's voice, especially when they're sat right next to you,” Jimin chimes in.

“Everybody shut up,” Taehyung orders as Yoon slowly rubs one of his large hand over Joon's exposed ass. “This is everything I've always wanted.”

“But he doesn't even have an ass,” Jungkook laughs, his voice grating in Taehyung's left earbud.

“Jungkook, you are one more stupid comment away from being blocked,” Taehyung warns as he decreases the volume on his laptop.

“Ten sounds fair, doesn't it?” Yoon muses as his gaze lingers on a mole on Joon's left cheek. The following pause must be him taking stock of the responses.

“Fuck no, do at least twenty,” Taehyung grumbles as he types.

“No way, you know how he likes to drag things out. Ten is enough,” Jungkook counters.

“Ten is just right,” Jimin agrees.

“You weak bastards.”

“Ten it is, Joon-ah,” Yoon speaks up.

“Motherfucker!” Taehyung faceplants onto his mattress. He pulls out his left earbud to mute the sound of his friends' laughter.

“Count for me,” Yoon says before he raises his hand and swiftly brings it down on Joon's exposed cheeks.

Joon jolts in his lap. “One,” he grunts.

In a break from his usual style, Yoon lifts his hand and delivers two quick but firm swats to each of Joon's cheeks in quick succession.

“T–two. Three.”

Taehyung licks his lips as he watches Yoon rub his hand over the slightly reddened skin of Joon's ass. It's probably warm and soft and extra sensitive and—He quickly unbuttons his jeans and slips his hand inside his boxers. Although Jungkook might—might—have had half a point about the size of Joon's ass, it's irrelevant when each of Yoon's slaps reddens it and makes it jiggle slightly until it starts to resemble a dessert that Taehyung would very much like to dig into.

“Eight,” Joon groans, throwing his head back. Taehyung groans with him as he strokes his cock.

“What's this?” Yoon says thoughtfully as he slides his hand down Joon's crack and between his legs. When he finds what he's looking for, he jerks his hand, making Joon gasp and shake and tremble on his lap. “Who told you that you could enjoy your punishment, Joon-ah?” Yoon asks in that lazy drawl of his.

Taehyung bites his lip. “Spank him some more, but really lay into him,” he mutters under his breath, tightening his grip on his cock.

“I–I'm sorry, Yoon-hyung,” Joon moans, his body still trembling.

“Not good enough.” Yoon clicks his tongue. In the blink of an eye, he lands two final slaps on Joon's ass before he pushes him off his lap.

Taehyung releases the breath he didn't realise he was holding when his phone buzzes next to him. Feeling for the earbud, he keeps his eyes on his tablet as Yoon turns to an assortment of belts and whips hanging in a rack next to the bed. “What?” he grumbles as Yoon selects a leather cat o' nine tails.

“Don't ignore us, you know it's better when we watch together,” Jimin whines.

“Alright, alright,” Taehyung says absently, mostly to pacify. Hand clasped in front of him, he focuses on the feed as Yoon directs Joon to lie with his hips propped up on a pillow. He deflates slightly when the whip comes down on Joon's outstretched thighs instead of his ass. “Too good to be true,” he mutters.

“Holy fuck,” Jungkook chokes.

His disappointment already forgotten, Taehyung turns to smirk at Jungkook's impossibly wide eyes. “You still alive there, Kookie?”

Jungkook flips him off. Jimin giggles.

“F–four.” Joon moans, his bound hands clawing at the sheets. Yoon lifts the whip to deliver another blow before he pauses.

“Joon, turn over,” he commands gruffly, nudging the side of Joon's thigh with the handle of the whip.

“Hyung?” Joon turns his head over his shoulder. Yoon wordlessly snaps his fingers. Joon brings his bound hands under him and slowly rolls himself onto his back, hissing when his lower half makes contact with the sheet. “Wha—Ahhh!”

“You missed a count. You've earned yourself an extra five hits,” Yoon says coolly before he brings the whip down on the front of Joon's thighs again.

“Oh, shit,” Taehyung gasps, pulling his hand from his boxers. “What if he hits his dick by mistake?”

“Yikes,” Jimin says with a sympathetic wince. “And five extra? So harsh...”

“He won't miss,” Jungkook mutters almost to himself, mesmerised by the images on-screen.

Joon grimaces with each blow of the tails to his thick thighs.


His legs jolt and his body shakes.


He desperately bites his plush lips.


But even as his clenched fingers dig grooves into the skin of his palms, his cock becomes engorged, jutting up proudly between his legs


Thick and red and beautiful.

Taehyung finds himself slipping his hand back inside his boxers, slowly stroking his cock as he watches Joon gasp and moan.

“Nineteen,” he whimpers, his back arching.

“Come on, Joon, just six more,” Jimin breathes, his voice heavy. A quick glance at his laptop shows him curled up on his side, naked as the day he was born as his hand pumps his cock. Flat on his stomach, Jungkook is hardly visible, only his hair and his gaping eyes showing.

“Don't blow your load too quickly.,” Taehyung says in warning. “You know this is only the beginning.”

“That's rich coming from you, TaeTae.”

“Twenty four,” Joon pants, his chest heaving.

As he catches his breath, the camera slowly pans over his entire body. His thighs are the only part of him that have been impacted, but—save for Joon's white knuckles—most of his body is flushed some shade of red. Yoon reaches out his free hand, but stops himself just before he touches the other man. Instead, he moves his hand over Joon's prone body, slowly trailing his fingers from Joon's red thighs up to his pink cheeks.

“Hyung?” Joon speaks softly when the pause drags on.

As if on cue, the whip crashes down on his thighs one last time, dragging a strangled cry from Joon's lips.

“Shhh, Joon-ah, it's alright,” Yoon coos as he discards the whip and carefully straddles Joon's hips. “It's over, you've completed your punishment.” Joon's sweaty, flushed face gets closer than ever as Yoon runs his hands through his hair.

“You forgive me?” Joon mumbles, his voice cracking.

“Shhh, of course I do.” The camera moves back a bit, perfectly framing Joon's face. “Who's my good boy?”

“Me,” Joon says softly, his swollen lips curving in a smile.

Jungkook moans, long and low, as he rolls around on his bed, nearly falling to the floor.

“Did you cum?” Jimin asks.

“No,” Jungkook pants, “but I came close.”

“I told you not to be greedy,” Taehyung says as Yoon runs his large hands up and down Joon's abused thighs. “The real shit is about to start.”

“My good boy,” Yoon hums, his deep voice lacking its usual gravel.

Once again Jungkook moans loudly in Taehyung's left ear. If it were a sexy moan, Taehyung wouldn't mind, but the sound is about as sexy as a dog going through its first heat. As it is, he pulls his earbud out and drapes the wire around the shell of his ear.

In his right earbud, Joon's breath hitches as Yoon slowly parts his legs. As he fits himself between Joon's red thighs, Taehyung finally notices the bulge straining the front of his jeans.

“I think I should fuck your thighs, Joon-ah.”


“Fuck's sake, Jungkook,” Jimin complains, wincing and rubbing his ears. Taehyung chuckles to himself.

On-screen, Joon groans, “Please, hyung,” as he lifts his hips.

Yoon shushes him and begins to unbutton his jeans. “Can you keep your thighs together for me while I fuck them, Joon-ah?” he murmurs as he pulls a tube of lube out of his pocket and squeezes a generous dollop in his hand.

“Yes, hyung.”

“That's my good boy.”

“Screech in my ears again and I'll make you regret it,” Jimin grits out through clenched teeth.

“You wouldn't,” Jungkook counters with an audible pout, but keeps himself quiet.

Taehyung opens his mouth to speak, but ends up sat with his mouth slightly open as he gets caught up in the way Yoon lubes up his cock and Joon's inner thighs in turn. Feet are usually what does it for Taehyung, but there's just something about Yoon's hands and the way they work. With his long fingers and the steady way they move, he could easily be a musician—a pianist or maybe a flautist. It's no wonder Joon falls to pieces whenever the other man fingers him.

A thrill of lust shakes Taehyung as Joon slips his long legs through the loop of his bound hands and holds his legs back, exposing his puckered hole. He bites his lip and moans as Yoon rubs his hands over the backs of Joon's thighs before he guides his cock between his legs. Joon gasps, his skin probably still sensitive from the flogging, but Yoon thrusts his hips without pause, albeit languidly.

“Fuck, Joon-ah, I fucking love your thighs,” he groans.

“Me too,” Jungkook whimpers.

Jimin is mute, but his hooded eyes and heavy panting tells it all. Taehyung very much enjoys the visual of Yoon's pink cock slipping in and out of Joon's thighs, but he can't help but whine in frustration.

“Why doesn't he just fuck him?” He throws himself onto his bed, making his laptop bounce and nearly fall to the floor. “Shit.” He catches it just in time. “I mean, this is the perfect position to just—” he cuts himself off as he fumbles for the right words. Giving up, he spams the comments with 'FUCK HIM' until he hits his limit.

“Stop bitching, he fucked him raw last time and came in him just the way you like.”

Taehyung frowns. “Well, yeah.”

“So, let him pander to my kinks for once,” Jungkook continues without missing a beat.

Taehyung narrows his eyes at Jungkook's side of the screen, but decides to let it go. As much as he'd love for Yoon to rub the head of his cock over Joon's hole before sliding home, he has to admit to himself that Jungkook has a point. At any rate, Joon is moaning and whining as though he's being fucked into the mattress. The sounds hit Taehyung deep at his core and he finds himself maxing the volume on his tablet.

“A–ah, hyung, I—it's so good. Ohhh!”

“Fuck, I love you—y–your, thighs.” The camera drops to an extreme close-up of Joon's thighs as Yoon's panting and groaning increases. “I—Fuck!” The camera pulls back just in time for it to capture his cum splashing onto Joon's thighs in ribbons.

“I—Oh God, that's—Shit...” Jungkook groans and that's him gone. Taehyung speeds up his strokes in the hope of following, but he pulls up when he sees that Yoon is still half-hard.

“How does he do it?” Taehyung mutters to himself, taking deep breaths to calm himself.

“Practice,” Jimin answers, sounding equally strung out.

“You did well, Joon-ah,” Yoon says, a bit out of breath as he pulls back and rubs his hands up and down Joon's thighs, smearing his cum. “Did that feel good?”

“Yes, hyung,” Joon replies, somehow more out of breath. “So good.”

“My cock or my cum?”

“Both,” Joon sighs in contentment.

Yoon hums, pressing Joon's legs further back as he slides a cum-covered finger over Joon's puckered hole.

“Come on,” Taehyung groans around his bottom lip. Alas, Yoon doesn't replace his finger with his cock when he drops his hand.

“If you love my cum that much, then get yourself up.”

“Is he gonna...?” Jimin asks in wonder.

Yoon sits on the edge of the bed and gets comfortable as he watches Joon struggle to get his legs through his arms. He rolls off the bed, but manages to land on his feet and stumble in front of Yoon. Without being told, Joon sinks to his knees and shuffles forward until he hits the edge of the mattress. Hands tentatively placed on Yoon's waist, Joon slowly leans forward until his cheek brushes the head of Yoon's cock, smearing some cum there. An appreciative moan rings in Taehyung's left ear as Yoon's cock slowly disappears into Joon's mouth.

“Thank fuck,” Jimin pants. “I was worried that he wouldn't.”

“Why?” Jungkook snorts. “When have they ever done a video that didn't have a blowjob?”

“Shut up,” Jimin pants.

Jungkook has a point, but sure enough, the comment section explodes with stickers and cheers and donations. And no wonder; Joon has lips that were simply made for sucking cock. The thrill of watching his plush red lips stretch around Yoon's cock is only heightened by the POV angle. Jimin's moaning very quickly comes to a head and Taehyung is right behind him, his vision blurring as spurts of cum blast Joon in the face.

“You look so good covered in my cum, Joonie,” Yoon purrs in Taehyung's ear as he catches his breath. “So pretty. Look at me.” Taehyung opens his eyes to watch Yoon tilt Joon's chin with one hand while he gently trails his fingers through the mess with his other hand. “You're my good boy...”

The feed cuts out. Taehyung waits for a few more seconds before he pulls out his right earbud and puts away his tablet.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Jimin sighs happily, a grin on his face as he sits up on his forearms.

“Did you just cum on your sheets?” Taehyung asks as he grabs a handful of tissues from the drawer in his bedside table.

“Of course not. I put my towel down,” Jimin frowns, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

“I should just do that next time,” Jungkook mutters. “My aim is so far off...”

Taehyung shakes his head. “Didn't your hyung teach you anything?”

Jungkook and Jimin both do a double take at the screen. Jimin opens his mouth, but it's Jungkook who asks. “What, did you tech your little brother how to wank?”

Taehyung blinks. “Well—”

“I don't even want to know,” Jimin speaks up before he disconnects the video call.

“Yeah, I think I'm just gonna go do my laundry,” Jungkook mumbles.

Taehyung pouts at his blank screen.