The first time Yoongi met Jimin, he was shitfaced.
He couldn’t blame Hoseok really. Sure, they were celebrating a couple things. Their new era as roommates. His dance team’s first place win, and everyone from the studio (of age) was at the bar, putting the dance floor to shame. Sure, he might have challenged Yoongi with a first one to stop taking shots pays for the bill (and sure, they were celebrating Hoseok and his team and whatever, and Yoongi wasn’t going to make Hoseok pay for everything, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to pass up the chance to wipe the cheeky grin off Hoseok’s face). Fifteen minutes later, Hoseok was waving his hands in defeat at his ninth shot, whereas Yoongi was grinning goofily at his eleventh. He accepted Hoseok’s defeat and promptly ordered two more beers. “Chasers,” he said to Hoseok, and they clinked glasses and took a sip.
“So Yoongi,” Hoseok drawled, which would have ordinarily brought on a wary glare from the elder, but only drew a grin. “You excited to finally meet the rest of my guys?”
Yoongi snorted into his beer. “Your guys?”
“My boys,” Hoseok crowed, waving both hands in the air. As one hand currently had a beer in it, the people behind them shouted in alarm when drops of foams sprayed over them. “My other best friends. Don’t feel too bad,” Hoseok added, patting the top of Yoongi’s head. “You’re still my favorite.”
Hoseok grinned widely at him. “Yoongi,” he drawled again. “Jimin is coming.”
Yoongi’s brow furrowed. “Thighs?”
Hoseok doubled over the bar in a fit of giggles. For some reason, Yoongi also found this hilarious, leaning so far against Hoseok he almost fell off his chair.
The bartender slid a couple glasses of water in front of them.
“I’m so glad you said that,” Hoseok finally gasped. “You know—yah, finally!” Hoseok was suddenly shouting, waving his hands wildly, sans beer this time. Then, to Yoongi, “They’re here.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled. “JIMIN! KOOK! OVER HERE.”
Yoongi shoved Hoseok, making a face at the volume of his voice. He recognized the names well. Hoseok talked about them a lot, had even shown Yoongi a few (okay, a more accurate number was 72?) practice videos, plus all the photos on social media. And of all the faces and bodies, one stood out to Yoongi in particular. And he was standing right next to Yoongi, breathlessly saying hello to a beaming Hoseok.
Elbow on the bar, Yoongi rested his neck on his hand, turning just slightly to look at the two who had joined them. His gaze swept over the one closed to Hoseok, a boyish looking guy with soft, brown doe eyes and even softer brown hair, and came to a faltering halt on the guy next to him. Hair fluffed and falling into his eyes, blonde and white and silvery all at once, wide brown eyes rimmed in smoldering dark eyeliner, cheeks fucking glowing¸ and his lips (plush and what the—) and, fucking yup, his thighs were really that incredible, rippling muscle all too visible underneath the dark red leather of his pants. Red leather. Yoongi consciously forced himself not to drink the rest of his beer in one big gulp.
“Sorry we’re late,” he said, and Yoongi, alcohol fucking thrumming in his ears, swung his chair around. His knee swiped against thighs (fuck, firm—) and the other boy was suddenly standing in between his legs.
“Ah, Yoongi, would you like me to officially introduce you to Jimin?” Hoseok said, waggling his eyebrows in a way that he definitely wouldn’t have gotten away with if Yoongi wasn’t, A) fucked up and B) preoccupied with the warm body in between his knees. Hoseok gave the younger boy a careless pat on the head. “And Jungkook here, barely of age. Where’s Taehyung?””
“Barely?” Jungkook said, swiping Hoseok’s beer and taking a large glug. “It’s his mom’s birthday,” Jungkook said as if it were the worst news in the world.
Yoongi smiled and leaned forward, bringing his face slightly closer to Jimin’s than was socially acceptable for a first meeting. Jimin, however, looked down at the ground and fucking grinned, a small flush tinting his cheeks, and Yoongi couldn’t stop himself from thinking, his alcohol drowned brain all but screaming it at him Oh you look like a lot of fun.
“Damn,” Yoongi said, and couldn’t figure out if he should be embarrassed or not. He felt warm. He put his hands on his own legs and slowly slid them down towards his knees, where the fingers of his left hand were able to stroke the back of Jimin’s upper thigh.
Hoseok was too drunk to notice, or care, and the other one, Jungkook, was waving down the bartender for a drink of his own. Jimin glanced over at the other two, then back at Yoongi. A small smile played at his lips (fuck) and he said, “You’re Yoongi-hyung. Hoseok-hyung has been talking about his new roommate a lot.” He giggled. Yoongi quickly reached for his beer. “Says you’re scary.”
“Ahh. D’you think I’m scary?”
Jimin’s smile definitely looked more like a smirk now, and Yoongi had the urge drag his thumb down across the pink skin and hold it in place. “Hyung doesn’t seem scary.”
Yoongi grinned at him then, his left hand suddenly moving up onto Jimin’s hip and squeezing, something the very very small part of his sober brain managed to whisper was maybe not such a smart idea and he was lucky Jimin had not slapped him yet.
He was drunk though, and promptly ignored that voice, especially when Jimin turned fully, one delicate hand pushing up the leather sleeve of his jacket, small fingers resting on the silver loop in his ear. Yoongi swayed a little, thought about turning his head and sucking those fingers into his mouth.
Jimin’s eyes were gleaming, or that could have been the alcohol. Yoongi narrowed his eyes in an effort to focus and Jimin chuckled. “Hoseok, you didn’t tell me hyung was so cute.”
“Brat,” Yoongi said, probably speaking louder than necessary. That could be one reason Jimin was laughing at him. “That’s hyung to you too. Hoseok, do you not command respect?”
Hoseok choked on his sip of beer. Jungkook happily took the glass out of Hoseok’s hands as the older boy mumbled, “I might puke.”
“Pathetic,” Yoongi said, then abruptly grabbed Jimin’s fingers, which were trailing softly over the curve of his ear, and held his hand against his chest. “You should learn respect, you know.”
Jimin looked at him for a beat, then signaled to the bartender. “Two more?” he said, pointing at the slew of empty shot glasses in front of Yoongi. He smiled coyly at Yoongi. “You must be able to do at least one more then, with me.”
“Ah, ah, wait a minute—” Yoongi said, holding in a hiccup.
“Hyung,” Jimin said, widening his eyes innocently. “It’s just one. Look at all of them,” he said, nodding at the empty glasses, and faintly in the back of Yoongi’s mind, he had the suspicious inkling that Jimin was possibly fucking with him. “If you could do one more, I would be so good for you.” Jimin pushed a full glass at Yoongi. “Respectful,” he added with a twinkle in his eye.
“Oi, Yoongi,” Hoseok said, furrowing his brow at the shot Yoongi was holding at eye level. “I don’t know about—”
Jungkook shoved his beer into Hoseok’s face, effectively shutting him up.
Yoongi pursed his lips at Jimin, wondering when his fingers had started touching his ear again, flicking at the silver hoop.
“You don’t tell me what to do you sexy little shit,” Yoongi said. Then brought the shot to his lips.
His next conscious moment, Yoongi was waking up with a stabbing headache, roiling stomach, and a text on his phone from new contact.
jimin sexy little shit [4:02AM]
don’t forget to drink water hyung <3
Yoongi stared down at the message, sucking his lower lip in between his teeth as he zeroed in on the heart, and then the contact name—sexy little—?
As if on cue, Hoseok burst through the door brandishing a bottle of water. Yoongi dropped his phone and ducked under the covers as Hoseok hurled the bottle towards him.
“Do not make me move that fast again,” Yoongi said, fishing around for the bottle of water he had deflected. He felt nauseous.
Hoseok all but leapt onto Yoongi’s bed, causing the mattress to bounce and Yoongi’s stomach to lurch. He closed his eyes. “I will throw up on you. I promise.”
“Don’t have a cow,” Hoseok said. “But yeah, I just finished throwing up the insides of my stomach an hour ago.” Yoongi scowled at him. “We’re lucky Jimin was able to drive us home.”
“Jimin,” Yoongi said, looking down at his phone. He rubbed his forehead, remembered fingers on his ears, fingers pressing against firm, thick thig—
“What happened?” Yoongi said, slowly lowering himself down onto his back. “I don’t remember shit.”
Hoseok hummed. “Before or after you made out with Jimin on top of the bar?”
Yoongi thought he really was going to puke, his stomach lurching all over again.
“Hose—” Yoongi said, then stopped and groaned when he saw Hoseok was laughing at him. “Get out of my room.”
Hoseok continued to laugh at him, then Yoongi threw a pillow at his face. “Okay, okay. Just kidding, sorry!” He paused holding up his hands in defense. “I was exaggerating.”
Yoongi narrowed his eyes. “Exaggerating?”
Hoseok grinned toothily at him. “It wasn’t on top of the bar. Just against it.”
Yoongi groaned, sliding down until only his black hair was visible over the covers. “This is why I don’t go out with you. Go away.”
Hoseok poked him through the covers. “Don’t you want to see the pictures Jungkook took?”
Yoongi saw Jimin for the second time two days later, the time during which he’d deleted Jimin’s message from his phone, because he felt like it was taunting him just sitting there, and with it gone it he was less tempted to text something stupid but also completely honest, like hey I want to fuck but maybe we should go out first and maybe I won’t drink so much this time and also you’re sexy as fuck?
“Hey,” Jimin said, startling Yoongi from the sheet music he’d been staring blankly at on the couch. Jimin was wearing a dark green beanie, the color a stark contrast to his pale hair. As he pulled it off, the material made his hair stand on end for a brief, fluffy moment before he pushed it back from his forehead and smiled at Yoongi, eyes glinting familiarly. “Hoseok invited Kookie and me for our weekly kimchi night.”
“And Taehyung but he’s sick or some bullshit,” someone shouted from the hallway.
“He really is sick,” Jimin threw over his shoulder. “Quarantined in his room so I don’t catch anything.”
“It’s okay,” Hoseok said cheerfully. “Yoongi-hyung can fill in.”
Jimin hung his jacket on the coat rack. He was wearing jeans today. Not as ostentatious as the leather. But just as tight.
“Lucky me,” Yoongi said.
Jungkook brought up the rear, carrying two large brown paper bags. He beamed at Yoongi from the doorway. “Yoongi-hyung! You look sober.”
Yoongi held in a sigh.
“Yoongii~, Kook and I are going to get dinner ready.” Hoseok smiled at Yoongi and, after glancing at Jimin, winked in a way that made Yoongi consider getting up and hitting him. He was sure Jimin did not miss the exchange, but he refused to look at him, turning back to his music sheets instead.
He heard a pair of footsteps make their way down the hall into the kitchen, and a soft weight settled near him. Warm thighs brushed the backs of his fingers.
Yoongi looked up.
Jimin shifted, turning so he sat sideways facing Yoongi, pulling one knee up against his chest. With his arm draped over the back of the couch and his head tilted in his hand, a small smile playing at his plush lips, he looked like the picture of innocence. And also the complete opposite. Yoongi had looked at those fucking pictures—almost to prove that Hoseok was lying about Jungkook taking any, but nope. The worst part was Jungkook had his live photo feature turned on, meaning there were about six fucking pictures that recorded much more of the moment than Yoongi was comfortable having on another person’s phone. Footage that involved him shoving Jimin against the bar edge, one hand rucked up against the front of his shirt, the other pulling at the strands of his hair. And yup, definitely making out. As Jungkook was so kind to point out with an accompanying message.
jungkookie [11:03 AM]
you can see their tongues touching if you zoom in on this one
Hoseok had also taken it upon himself to send the pictures to their friends’ group chat. Namjoon, who worked at the same studio as Yoongi, and Seokjin, a friend since freshman year of college, had been elated, to say the least.
this is the best thing I have ever seen in my life
is that Park Jimin???
THE ONE AND ONLY
You know jiminie?
I tutor Taehyung, they’re roommates so I see him all the time
Wow Yoongi look at you go
did I mention this is the best thing I have ever seen in my life
I didn’t know Yoongi got down like that
Knew Jimin did
That boy has got some moves on him
yoongi’s been virtually crushing on jimin for months
so proud of our hyung
finally getting some action
what a catch
please shut the fuck up
Jimin was gazing at him so intently Yoongi had to resist the urge to ask if there was something on his face. Instead, he shuffled the papers in his hands, feeling warm under Jimin’s gaze and entirely too sober for any of this. “Thanks for driving us home,” he finally said. “Couple nights ago.”
Jimin smiled wider. “Oh, it was nothing.” He wasn’t wearing eyeliner, but his eyes still had a wicked twinkle. And yet there was something sweet about his bare face. He still looked like he was glowing.
Yoongi felt dizzy. And definitely too sober for any of this shit.
Raising an eyebrow, he asked, “Aren’t you going to cook?”
Jimin snuffled his arm. His voice was sugar. “Would you like me to cook for you, hyung? I could do that, just for you.”
Yoongi wanted to tell Jimin he was being a flirt, then he remembered it had taken him less than 30 seconds after saying hello to pull Jimin in between his legs.
Yoongi leaned back to look at Jimin. “One of the few things I do remember involved your promising to be….”
Jimin bit his lower lip around his grin. Yoongi wanted to replace Jimin’s teeth with his own. “Good. I would be so good.”
Was Jimin always this flirty? He thought about Seokjin’s text. That Jimin had moves on him, an open ended statement Yoongi wasn’t having much trouble interpreting. That could explain why he let a practical stranger shove him up against the bar consequentially shove his tongue down his throat.
"My memory is a little fuzzy.”
Jimin very obviously glanced down at his lips. Yoongi tacked resisting the urge to lick his own lips onto resisting the urge to lick Jimin’s. “I can help you remember, if you like.”
Fuck. Jimin had moved his hand down to cup his neck, and he just looked at Yoongi, face open and casual, as if they were discussing the weather.
Yoongi couldn’t totally hold back the smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips. Moves or not—I was right about him being fun. “All right. I’m all ears.”
Jimin was quiet for a beat, and although his expression stayed the same, Yoongi thought the kid was doing some quick thinking. Absolutely up to no good.
He didn’t have a moment to react when Jimin surged forward, all fluid and graceful and shit as his knee came around Yoongi, rendering him sufficiently straddled. Jimin curled a small hand into the neck of Yoongi’s shirt and pushed him with surprising force against the back of the couch.
“You don’t need to listen. I’ll show you,” Jimin said, and he was so slick, the undercurrent of a laugh underneath his words.
Then his mouth was on Yoongi’s.
Okay, so he kind of deserved this, the no warning or time to get to know one another and everything, but then Jimin’s teeth were tugging at Yoongi’s lower lip, tongue licking over the sensitive skin before slipping into his mouth, and Yoongi all but growled, the papers falling from his hands as he gripped tightly at Jimin’s hips and pulled him forward, thinking he did not deserve this, no fucking way. Jimin whined very quietly against his mouth when their crotches rubbed together, and Yoongi took that opportunity to pull back just enough so his thumb caught Jimin’s plump lower lip and held it in place. Jimin panted, his tongue flicking out over the pad of his thumb. He grinned, eyes half mooning adorably.
“You’re a little shit,” Yoongi said, deadpan.
Jimin flopped onto his back, his lower legs settling all too comfortably in Yoongi’s lap. He didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, even giggling a little. “You started it.”
Yoongi couldn’t deny that, although in his defense, he had been shitfaced.
“Besides, since we kissed and you were black out drunk, you might as well have an idea of what it feels like to kiss me,” Jimin said, as though kissing him was a selective privilege. Selective, Yoongi wasn’t so sure. Privilege? Definitely.
“And…maybe you should learn how to handle your alcohol better,” Jimin added.
Yoongi let out a small tch as he turned, grabbing one of Jimin’s legs and tugging hard so that he only needed to learn forward slightly to hover close over the younger boy’s upper body. “Maybe you should learn some respect, hm? What happened to that you little demon?”
“I could be good for you, I swear,” Jimin breathed. He coyly put his fingers on his pink lips. “Maybe I need you to teach me, hyung.”
Oh, he was asking f—
“Ah, glad you’re getting along!” Hoseok said with a grin from the hallway. Yoongi considered hitting him again. “Dinner is ready.”
Yoongi looked at him. “I thought you were making kimchi.”
“I said we were getting dinner ready,” Hoseok said. “We got take out. It’s on the table, ready to eat.”
Yoongi looked back at Jimin. “You didn’t know about this, did you?”
Jimin grinned and sat up, bringing his face much closer to Yoongi’s. “I’ll still cook for you, Yoongi-hyung, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Yoongi told him not to get too smug, refusing to let Jimin see his face after the younger boy sneaked a peck on his cheek, quickly following a chuckling Hoseok into the kitchen.
The third time Yoongi saw Jimin was at another bar.
Two and half weeks later, to be exact. This time, Yoongi was not shitfaced, only buzzing pleasantly off a couple beers, gently nursing his third, with Hoseok, Namjoon, and Seokjin lounging around a high top table. The lights were dimmed, and a few retro arcade games sat around the edges of the wide room.
Yoongi narrowed his eyes at one less than ten feet away. He looked at Hoseok. “Is that Jimin?”
Seokjin and Namjoon looked up so fast Yoongi was surprised (and slightly disappointed) that they did not get whiplash. Grinning, Hoseok turned around to look at the pair standing around an Evil Dead themed pinball machine. One of them, Yoongi really hadn’t even needed to ask, was definitely Jimin. He was wearing tight jeans, really too ripped up to be considered real pants, and a T-shirt with a wide rimmed neckline, showing of the curve of his collarbone and making the dark choker around his neck stand out in a way that made Yoongi’s mouth dry. Next to Jimin was someone that looked vaguely familiar to Yoongi, his low voice carrying over to them easily. When he laughed with Jimin about something, his grin was boxy.
“Yup, and motherfucking Taehyung.”
Seokjin nudged Namjoon and they both grinned at the stoney expression on Yoongi’s face.
Yoongi took a large sip of his beer. Could barely make out the soft sound of Jimin’s voice. Could definitely see that tonight he was wearing eyeliner. Fuck.
“You look mad, hyung.” Hoseok paused. “Do you think they’re on a date?”
Yoongi tried not to roll his eyes at Hoseok. Namjoon was laughing into his drink, and Seokjin was grinning. “Shut up.”
Hoseok tsked at Yoongi. “That’s what you get for never texting anyone back. A catch like Jiminie doesn’t stay single for long.”
Yoongi did roll his eyes this time, his gaze zeroing back in on the choker around Jimin’s neck.
At that moment, Jimin looked up and caught all four of them watching. Not stopping for a beat, Jimin beamed, putting his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and swinging him around. “Tae, look who it is!”
Taehyung waved at them eagerly before he had even fully turned around. As he did, Jimin stepped closer to him, nuzzling his nose into the other boy’s neck. Looking at Yoongi as he did.
Yoongi took a larger sip of his beer. Sexy little shit.
The rest of that night consisted of the six of them gathered around the table, now and then splitting off to take a stab at one of the vintage games. Jimin’s hip was permanently affixed to Taehyung’s, who, Yoongi recognized not only from Hoseok’s dance practice videos, but from a night out a few months earlier, which had ended with Yoongi, Taehyung, and Hoseok giggling with each other in the backseat of Seokjin’s car as he drove them home. He thought about Jimin, about how he’d been so close to the younger boy when they’d dropped Taehyung off and had had no clue. Fucking Jimin, who was currently whispering into his roommate’s ear, giggling, fingers playing with the other boy’s sleeves, chin resting on his shoulder. The glances he was shooting Yoongi in between caused something warm to coil in his lower regions. Of fucking course he was wearing eyeliner.
Yoongi’s gaze shifted from Jimin to Taehyung, who was waving at him in an effort to get his attention. Yoongi ignored Jimin’s wide grin.
Taehyung beamed, his eyes twinkling. “I asked how long you’ve known Jiminie.”
Yoongi looked at him for a second. “Officially? About three weeks.”
Taehyung glanced at Jimin, who piped up, “But we’ve been using his music to dance to for almost a year now.”
“You what?” Yoongi said, shooting Hoseok an accusatory glance.
“Your music, hyung,” Jimin said. “Hoseok-hyung is always bringing in your tracks. They’re really good.” He smiled hugely at Yoongi as he pressed his chin against Taehyung’s shoulder.
“Thank you,” Yoongi said, simply for lack of something better to say. “Hoseok, next time I say ‘don’t show this to anyone,’ feel free to ignore that, yeah?”
“Way ahead of you!” Hoseok said, holding up his beer.
“But why would you say that?” Jimin asked, sounding perplexed. “Your music is really good.”
“Aw,” Seokjin said in a hushed voice, nudging Yoongi’s side.
Yoongi rubbed his tongue against the back of his teeth. “Those tracks were unfinished though. I’d rather have people hear the final product.”
“Show me the final product some time, then,” Jimin said, all but batting his eyelashes as he squeezed Taehyung’s arm.
Yoongi raised an eyebrow as he stood. “Come with me.”
Jimin looked momentarily surprised. “Right n-?”
“I want to play that game in the corner. It’s got a two-player function.” It was his turn to grin at Jimin. “Won’t you join me?”
Jimin glanced at Taehyung, who just raised an eyebrow in return.
Yoongi had a thought.
“Taehyung can come too.” Taehyung’s eyes widened. Yoongi’s grin got bigger. “He’s cute. I don’t mind.”
Jimin’s eyes flicked back to him as he pulled away from the table.
“It’s two players, you said.” Jimin’s voice was poison, his smile deceptively angelic over his shoulder as he walked towards the game, his hips swaying too much for it to be accidental. “Scared?”
Yoongi rolled his eyes, walking around the table after him. As he passed Hoseok, he pointedly ignored Hoseok’s whisper of “stop flirting”, instead focusing on Jimin as the boy leaned against the game’s edge, head lolling almost lazily to watch as Yoongi came to a stop less than a foot away.
“Hi, hyung,” Jimin practically purred.
Yoongi, hands in his pockets, leaned against the other side of the game. “You know how to play this game?”
Jimin pursed his lips. Goddamn. “I think so.”
He took pleasure in hearing Jimin’s intake of breath as he leaned close, his arm sliding against Jimin’s side. Jimin was about to open his mouth when the click of the coins depositing into the slot brought the game to life. It was old, some sort of maze that the two players have to get through with a joy stick and one attack button for each of them.
“Hyung!” Jimin protested as Yoongi pressed down on the attack button and Jimin’s character flickered as its health went down. “That’s not fair.”
“Get a move on, then, brat.”
Jimin full on pouted at him, and Yoongi had to stop himself from smiling like an idiot, and also kissing the pout off his stupid face. He opted for jamming down on the attack button and making Jimin’s character bleep indignantly.
“Hyung!” Jimin exclaimed again, and they both started jamming down on the buttons, pulling and yanking at the joy sticks almost violently as they dodged each other’s attacks.
“I don’t think this is how you’re supposed to play,” Jimin said after a minute of Yoongi’s character chasing his in figure eights. He sounded like he was trying not to laugh too hard.
“You’re no fun,” Yoongi said, the flat monotone of his voice making Jimin snort.
His character shifted to start following the path and heading in the direction of maze’s exit. Yoongi followed suit. They played in comfortable silence, if you didn’t count the constant chatter around them and sounds of other games going off as drink glasses clunked against the bar. Occasionally Jimin would whine and Yoongi would make a dry comment. At the start of the fourth level, Jimin spoke.
“Do you really think Taehyung is cute?”
Yoongi bit his lip a little to stop his smile from showing. “He’s got a cute smile.”
To his right, Jimin was silent for long enough that Yoongi snuck a glance. The other boy was pursing his lips at the screen.
Yoongi thought about Jimin nuzzling Taehyung’s neck. “Think Hoseok would give me his number?”
Jimin’s cheeks were flushing. “I have his number, too.”
Yoongi wasn’t even pretending to look at the game anymore. “Would you give it to me?”
He barely bit his lip around his grin at Jimin’s answer. “No.”
He had another thought. Leaning close enough that he knew Jimin could feel his breath against his neck, he said, “Why not, Jiminie?”
Jimin was still looking at the game. Yoongi could hear his character bleeping as its health went down. Saw Jimin’s cute fingers pressing down repeatedly on his attack button.
He hesitated a second, then pressed his lips against the skin underneath Jimin’s ear. Jimin whipped around at that, but Yoongi had already pulled away, leaning against the edge of the game again. Game Over flashed over his character’s corpse.
“Because I want you to call me.”
Yoongi’s grin was full blown. Maybe he was a little buzzed. “Why’s that?”
The pink of Jimin’s cheeks was so delicious, Yoongi had more than half a mind to lick them. “Quit being a dick,” Jimin said, crossing his arms. “If I recall, you shoved me against the bar.”
“Ah,” Yoongi said, tapping his chin. “But I don’t recall. Technically, you took advantage of me.”
“Hyung, you are such a liar.”
Yoongi pursed his lips in a pseudo-thoughtful expression. “So are you saying you didn’t like being kissed against the bar?”
Jimin narrowed his eyes at him. Yoongi glanced over at their table, letting his gaze linger on Taehyung, who’s butt was nice and all, but nothing compared to what was in front of him. Jimin was wearing black pants, and damn.
“Yoongi! No, I liked it. Yoongi!”
Yoongi raised an eyebrow, turning back to Jimin. “Forgetting something, brat?” At the look on Jimin’s face, Yoongi held in a soft noise. He stepped forward, his hand coming up to cup the side of Jimin’s face, thumb sliding across the jutting lower lip. “Stop pouting,” he breathed.
Something flickered in Jimin’s eyes. His lip was warm against Yoongi’s thumb.
“Sorry, hyung,” he said, sweetly enough for Yoongi to be suspicious. Then Jimin batted his eyes, all promise and debauchery and seduction, and Yoongi’s suspicions were confirmed. He really was a sexy little shit.
Yoongi leaned back on his heels. “And stop flirting with a Taehyung. It’s making me jealous.”
Jimin looked marginally suspicious. “Of who?”
At that, Yoongi just smiled.
jimin sexy little shit [9:09PM]
It’s been 3 days and you still haven’t texted me
jimin sexy little shit [9:21PM]
You look cute in your snapchat story today
But if I’ m a liar...
jimin sexy little shit [9:22PM]
You’ re a brat
But still cute
I like that sweater
your pjs are cute too
jimin sexy little shit [11:15PM]
hyung you know you can chat me directly in snapchat, right?
Too many ways to text and shit
I like this better
want me to stop?
jimin sexy little shit [11:17PM]
Hoseok showed me the solo routine you’ve been working on
jimin sexy little shit [5:45PM]
he swore to me he wasn’t recording!
You should have known not to trust him
but I’m glad he was
Where’d you go?
jimin sexy little shit [9:35PM]
you made me blush
and I'm just leaving the studio actually
What are you, shy?
Tell me more about that
It's way best your bedtime brat, you need rest
jimin sexy little shit [9:44PM]
Maybe I am shy
Aw, hyung, you're concerned for me, it's cute
Don't believe that for a second
Course I am
Let me see you
Was missing your face on snapchat today
jimin sexy little shit [10:21PM]
Maybe it's healthy for you hyung
You sound a little obsessed
I think you like it
Show me your pretty face
I'll even say please
yoongi [10:34 PM]
I know you’re not shy
jimin sexy little shit [10:40P M]
yoongi [10:44 PM]
you are seriously
jimin sexy little shit [11:16PM]
yoongi [11:21 PM]
You already fuckin know
jimin sexy little shit [7:00PM]
Hyung will you show me your music
pretty forward there…
jimin sexy little shit [7:20PM]
you should talk
pot and the kettle or whatever
jimin sexy little shit [7:47PM]
Your music is good
You shouldn’t be shy about it
Ah, so I am not a liar
As you just confirmed that I am indeed, shy
jimin sexy little shit [8:03PM]
you must have one track you can show me
I think you are a selective listener
Maybe…or maybe I just don’t want to show you
jimin sexy little shit [8:11PM]
Wah, you’re lying again
jimin sexy little shit [9:25PM]
jimin sexy little shit [10:34PM]
If you send me one, I’ll dance to it for you
jimin sexy little shit [11:01PM]
jimin sexy little shit [3:16PM]
you never post anything to your snapchat
jimin sexy little shit [3:20PM]
it’s more fun to spectate
yesterday you were a puppy
the day before that you were sporting a flower crown
and a few days I believe you were the advert for that new horror movie coming out…
jimin sexy little shit [3:26PM]
wow hyung you really remember that well?
today I can see
you are an angel
and I thought that was only in my head…
jimin sexy little shit [4:01PM]
not a demon??
yah, maybe not, should an angel be using such suggestive punctuation…
jimin sexy little shit [4:17PM]
is that what I think it is
why is that dick pointy
something I was working on today
jimin sexy little shit [8:19PM]
This is amazing
I recall a dance being promised
jimin sexy little shit [8:50PM]
you have a one track mind don’t you
so about that dance
can I make outfit requests
tell us how it’s going with Jimin
I doubt its going at all
Unless him and jimin ended up drunk together at another bar
I don’t know, yoongi-hyung has been walking around our apartment with a cute grin on his face
And jimin has been the same way at dance practice
Keeps checking his phone
Pretty sure yoongi showed him some unfinished music
this is serious
And I might have some interesting intel
But I’ll only say it if Yoongi’s responds
I’m here all right
answer the question first Yoongi
how is it going with Jimin??
we’ve been texting
and that’s going fine
good enough for you leeches?
I second that
but it’s yoongi-hyung so that’s as good as we’re gonna get
and I wanna know the intel
tell us jin pleaaaaseeee
I was at Taehyung’s for one our lessons
And he was saying Jimin’s been staying in for the past couple weeks
Glued to his phone
and Jimin goes out a lot
occasionally bringing someone home
but it’s a dry spell
as Taehyung put it, a long one for Jimin
I'm sure he's exaggerating Yoongi I'm sure Jimin doesn't bring home people every other night
really doesn't matter
right as long as you're the one he's bringing home now
:'D :'D :'D
and he was also teasing Jimin while we were there
the juicy stuff
still with us yoongi??
literally right here
well don’t sound so excited
jin keep going!!
he was teasing him about having a crush on Yoongi for like
and how he’s finally talking to him and living out his dream
I thought they just met
A week ago
more like a month ago
it’s the music isn’t it
tell us jin
jimin nearly jizzed his pants the first time I played yoongi’s music
he was freaking out
‘who is this, this is so great, his voice is so sexy, i would let him do dirty dirty things to me’
oh come on he did not say those things
not all at once
but he was such a fanboy for you hyung
I might have told him you would be at the bar with us that night…
you mean to tell me you knew that I had a thing for him
from the dance practice videos
and he had a thing for me
from my music
and you just kept this to yourself
you and jimin are both kind of creepy stalkers for each other
I hate all of you
Oh one more thing
Jimin and Taehyung were gossiping
Trying to figure out what color Jimin wants to make his hair next
And Jimin might have mentioned
how he might have a conniption
if Yoongi ever dyed his hair
I second that
Seriously…I hate all of you
Namjoon you’ve dyed your hair before right
It was another kimchi night when they saw each other again.
Jimin’s greeting was a hard hug from behind, a puff of breath against his neck as the younger boy breathed, “Did you miss me, hyung?”
Yoongi lolled his head back against Jimin’s shoulder, reaching up to secure the white cap on his head. Jimin’s chin fit in its resting place on Yoongi’s shoulder as if it were made to be there. “My own personal shoulder angel,” Yoongi said. He turned and Jimin released his grip on him with a giggle.
Yoongi leaned back against the counter, saw Jimin’s gaze zero in on the newly bleached hair poking out from under the cap’s edges
“Yoongi-hyung—did you—?” Jimin gasped a little around his words, and Yoongi saw his hand coming for the bill of the cap in plenty of time to grab Jimin’s wrist and stop him mid- reach.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Yoongi said with a smile. “Be good.”
Jimin looked like he’d been told Christmas was cancelled. “Hyung. Please.”
Yoongi brought Jimin’s fingers to his lips, brushed the soft skin there against his mouth. Jimin’s eyes were wide, but there was a shadow of a smile on his own mouth. “Please,” Jimin breathed, and for a second, Yoongi thought the younger boy was going to lick his finger.
“You’re pretty greedy,” Yoongi murmured. “First you want my unfinished music. Now you want to see my unfinished hair?”
“Unfinished?” Jimin moaned. “Hyung, that’s just mean. Please let me see it.”
Yoongi smirked at him. “You have to be patient.”
Jimin pouted at him, hugely, and Yoongi had to consciously not react. He looked fucking good—okay, he was wearing bloody leggings. And there was a suspicious rip on the back of his upper thigh, the top of it hidden by the overly large, mint green T-shirt hanging off his shoulders. The edge of it just blocked the swell of his ass, but a shadow of it was definitely visible as Jimin shifted his weight, still pouting at Yoongi. Lips were shiny. Was that fucking lip gloss?
Yoongi, moving slowly and deliberately, reached out, his hand finding Jimin’s hip under the bright material of the T-shirt. He pulled him close, close enough that Yoongi’s mouth hovered just under Jimin’s jaw. The brat had a centimeter on him, maybe. Yoongi tilted his head up, closing his eyes and breathing in.
“Smells like mint,” Yoongi whispered. “And chocolate.”
Jimin’s eyelids fluttered as Yoongi’s breath washed over his lips. He licked them, slowly. “Keeps my mouth soft,” he smiled, a little impishly. “Tastes good.” He licked his lower lip, once.
Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh and press a swift, firm kiss to the corner of Jimin’s mouth. “I’ll bet,” he said, sliding his hand around so it was curled around Jimin’s waist. The knowledge that Jimin liked him, wanted him, maybe just as much as Yoongi wanted him, was emboldening. “Angel,” he said, and took pleasure in Jimin’s slow building flush as he spoke. “Come out with me Saturday night and I’ll show you the finished product.” He squeezed, kneading the firm muscle at Jimin’s back. “I promise.”
Jimin practically sighed. His eyes were sparkling. “Yoongi-hyung. Are you drunk?”
Yoongi squeezed Jimin’s skin harder. “Drunk off you, maybe.”
Jimin flushed. “Wow. You’re embarrassing.”
Yoongi’s nose was softly brushing over the skin just under Jimin’s jaw. “Is that a yes?”
Jimin turned his body so his back was pressed against the kitchen counter. Yoongi got a flash of memory, his blood heavy with alcohol and fucking Jimin, the dancer’s lips hot and wet under his own, tongue scraping against his teeth, high whine swallowed by his own mouth, and skin, skin soft and firm under his fingers.
Yoongi’s vision focused, unmercifully clear, back on Jimin in front of him, all self-satisfied smirk, pink cheeks, and full, glossy lips.
“Yes,” Jimin said, tucking his cheek against his shoulder, and it was so goddamn adorable, but also so goddamn sexy, Jimin’s eyes half lidded, his tongue licking his lower lip a-fucking-gain, said lip curled up into a small smile.
“Yoongi~ Jiminie~! Stop making out and set up the take out!”
Yoongi grinned at Jimin, and Jimin covered his mouth with his hands, eyes crinkling in a half-moon as he laughed at Hosoek who promptly called them fucking gross and began setting up the take out himself.
“You still owe me a home cooked meal,” Yoongi said to Jimin, sliding his hand slowly off of Jimin’s body.
Jimin tugged cutely and not-at-all innocently at his overly large T-shirt, the wide neck of it slipping just past his shoulder. Probably better for Yoongi that he didn’t tug the shirt up and reveal how big the hole in his leggings was. “Let’s see how Saturday goes first.”
“Brat,” Yoongi growled, and took pleasure in the thrilled, heated look that flashed through Jimin’s eyes.
Yoongi told Jimin to dress warm, since they would be outside, and did not give him any other clue as to where he was taking him. Jimin did not ask him, surprisingly, and his texts until Saturday consisted of more emojis than actual words, and a few more less than innocently placed characters.
Yoongi pulled up in his hatchback to Jimin’s apartment, where Jimin was waiting at the foot of the steps. Yoongi’s headlights shone directly on him, and Yoongi cursed outloud in the privacy of his own car. Jimin was wearing jeans so tight Yoongi was not sure whether they were actually jeggings or not. Holes were so big in both knee areas that the jeans were in danger of becoming very short shorts, and the black material covering the bare skin of Jimin’s leg looked suspiciously see-through. Thigh muscles rippled as Jimin walked forward, a large fuzzy sweater a deep shade of purple hanging over the tops of his thighs. The beanie over his head was black, and as Jimin smiled at him against the headlights, Yoongi saw with a low groan that dark purple smoky eyeshadow was glimmering at the corner of Jimin’s eyes. This kid was going to be the death of him.
Jimin flung open the passenger door, eyes zeroing in on Yoongi and the soft shock of mint bangs falling into his eyes. Yoongi grinned at him. “Get the fuck in here.”
Jimin grinned too, slamming the door shut as he fell into the seat next to Yoongi. “Hyung,” he whispered, eyes flicking over Yoongi’s hair, his cheeks flushing pink. Yoongi didn’t think it was fair to completely blame the cold on that. “Hyung, oh God.”
Yoongi laughed, couldn’t help himself. He gently flicked Jimin’s nose. “A promise is a promise.”
“Hyung,” Jimin breathed. “You looked good before, but this is—wow.” His eyes were roving over Yoongi without stopping. “You wore the leather jacket.”
“Oh?” Yoongi said, flipping on his turn signal at the exit of Jimin’s street. “The leather jacket?” His smile was crooked. “We’ve seen each other, what, three times and you already know my wardrobe?”
Jimin made an indignant gasping noise. “Four times, hyung.”
“I do not remember the first time.” He paused. “Well, I do remember recognizing you.”
He glanced at Jimin, who was furrowing his brow. “Really?”
“Mm,” Yoongi said, and, without thinking about it, put his hand on Jimin’s thigh, glad the leather jacket hid the goosebumps on his skin. “Online and shit. You’re in almost all of Hoseok’s practice videos. And on his Instagram.”
Jimin made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a purr. “I made an impression.”
Yoongi frowned. “You think so?”
He could feel the side eye Jimin cut his way. “Should I get Jungkook’s pictures?”
Jimin winked. “No promises.”
They fell into a short, comfortable silence as Yoongi merged onto the highway. After a little bit, Jimin shifted so he could reach up and run his fingers through the bright strands on Yoongi’s head. “Why this color?”
Yoongi thought of the skin of Jimin’s side, warm and firm against his palm, the inside of Jimin’s mint green T-shirt kissing the back of his hand. The mint gloss on his lips.
“Good feeling about this color,” Yoongi said, grabbing Jimin’s hand from his hair and kissing the back of it.
Jimin cringed, a great big grin on his face all the while. “You are so embarrassing.”
Yoongi’s tongue flicked up, licked the web of skin in between Jimin’s middle and ring finger. Jimin’s gasp was loud.
“Say again?” Yoongi said. He gently let go of Jimin’s hand and put it on the wheel of his car. “We’re going to the pier. I think there might be a fair there.”
Jimin’s face lit up. “You really are cheesy.”
The pier was a glow of neon lights, the Ferris wheel making a steady shift through the colors of the rainbow as it slowly rotated against the dark night sky.
“Hyung, you’re going to take me on that, right?”
“Eh, we’ll see,” Yoongi said. He pointed at a ride immediately to their left, a track in the shape of a perfect O, bright yellow and red lights lighting up the track as the coaster zoomed up the edge of the O and hung from the top. It was ominously called ring of fire. “Let’s do this first.”
Yoongi took small pleasure in the whimper that pushed past Jimin’s lips. He reached out and squeezed hand around Jimin’s small fingers. Jimin looked at him, narrowing his eyes at Yoongi’s smirk.
“Really, hyung?” he said, but allowed Yoongi to lead him towards the coaster. “Not a test the waters first kind of guy, are you?”
“What gave it away?” Yoongi said, thinking of pictures Jungkook took that he may or may not have saved on his phone.
Jimin grinned, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet as they waited for the worker to open the gate letting them in. The lights from the ride enhanced the glow already present on Jimin’s cheeks, glinting off his shimmering lips, confirming the chocolate mint scent Yoongi had gotten a whiff of in the car. Fucking lip gloss.
The cushion of the shoulder harness was firm against Yoongi’s chest, making it slightly difficult, but not impossible, to reach out and squeeze Jimin’s thigh. Which was still so firm. Jimin fidgeted a little, letting out a yelp when the coaster began to move. Yoongi tried not to think too hard about why that turned him on a little.
Jimin’s hand slammed down on Yoongi’s and squeezed hard as the coaster fell backwards, practically squealing, and Yoongi found himself thinking, and seriously, in a totally innocent way, that Jimin was a lot of fun. And just so fucking cute.
Yoongi had lost count of the rides they’d gone on, could only really worry about focusing on the beaming grin on Jimin’s face, the ever present flush to his cheeks that got steadily brighter as they disembarked each ride. A couple times, Yoongi couldn’t help himself, grabbing Jimin, first swinging him back by the crook of his elbow, the second time hand curling around his hip, fingers pressing against the swell that was the top of Jimin’s ass, all to pull him close and kiss his plush, pink mouth.
They had just gotten off a ride called the zipper, some fucked up contraption that literally locked you in a rotating metal box, one of eleven or twelve other boxes, all of which were pulled up and around a long, rotating oval belt. Jimin was giggling and swaying like he was drunk, leaning heavily on Yoongi, his breath hot against Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi turned, his hand coming up to cup the side of Jimin’s jaw, gripping tight enough to pull him forward an inch so he could kiss him.
He felt Jimin smile against his mouth, felt the younger boy’s tongue tease the seam of Yoongi’s lips, and he parted them so he could get a small taste.
Jimin hummed, his own hands coming up to pull petulantly at the black beanie that hid Yoongi’s bright shock of hair, something that Jimin had been complaining about all night.
“Can’t you take this off?” Jimin breathed against his mouth.
“It’s cold you little shit,” Yoongi said, tugging the beanie back down as Jimin stepped back. “You don’t see me pulling at yours.”
Jimin’s eyes twinkled. “You could pull at whatever you wanted of mine, hyung.”
Yoongi clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “You're something else.” He grabbed Jimin’s hand in a poor attempt to distract himself from the images coming up in his head. “You want a snack?”
Jimin’s eyes lit up on the stand about ten yards to their right. “Cotton candy. Please?”
Yoongi grimaced. “How about something less made completely of sugar?”
“Don’t you like sugar?” Jimin asked.
Yoongi made a noncommittal noise.
“Please, hyung? For me?” Jimin cooed.
Yoongi rolled his eyes to the sky. “All right.” They stopped at the front of the cotton candy booth, the worker there looking up expectantly at their presence.
“One, please,” Yoongi said.
“Blue or pink?” the worker said, grabbing the white stick and hovering over the two metal bowls, one baby blue, the other a bright shock of pink.
“Pink,” Jimin said before Yoong could even look at him.
Yoongi raised his eyebrows, but gestured to the pink bowl wordlessly. The worker dipped the stick in and began twirling it between his fingers, creating a fluff of pink that Yoongi personally thought was way too much sugar for one person alone. He saw Jimin reach for his back pocket where his card was, a fact Yoongi knew as a result of staring at the younger guy’s ass at intervals all night when his sweater had mercifully (or mercilessly, depending on how you looked at it) fluttered up to reveal the swell of his butt. Wordlessly, he put a hand on Jimin’s arm to still him and handed the worker some money.
“Keep the change,” he said, taking the cotton candy and turning to Jimin.
“Thank you, hyung,” Jimin murmured as Yoongi handed him the cotton candy. The second it was in his possession, Jimin plucked off a pinch of it and put his fingers in his mouth, tongue flicking out to capture the sticky remnants. Yoongi realized he had fucked up.
“Fuck,” he said, and Jimin grinned at him over the shock of pink sugar.
“Do you want some?” he asked, holding out a piece to Yoongi.
Yoongi eyed the wisp of pink in between Jimin’s tiny fingers. He considered it, seriously, just to lick it off, then thought of the fact that that was 100% sugar and shook his head.
“It’s all you, angel.”
Jimin licked his lips, looking down at his shoes. Yoongi smiled at him for a beat before glancing round the park. He nodded over at the Ferris wheel.
Jimin’s cheeks swelled as he smiled, falling into step beside Yoongi as they made their way towards the Ferris wheel. Yoongi tried not to stare as Jimin ate the cotton candy. Was it normal for someone to use their tongue so much? Fortunately, Jimin was looking around the pier. A breeze ruffled the bangs peeking out from under his hat. Jimin smiled and turned to Yoongi.
“This is so nice, hyung.” He paused, twirling the cotton candy in his fingers. “Where are you gonna take me next that’ll top this?” he asked as they shuffled into line.
Yoongi snorted, his retort catching somewhere between his throat and the tip of his tongue as he turned to Jimin and watched the younger boy’s lips wrap around his finger, bright pink and sticky as he pulled the digit out with a small pop.
Jimin’s eyes glittered, and they all but pinned Yoongi in place, making him think maybe Jimin had noticed him staring. The metal under them creaked as a carriage approached. Yoongi was still staring at Jimin’s mouth.
The younger boy grabbed his elbow, holding his cotton candy in the other hand as he all but pulled Yoongi into the carriage. The door shut behind them and Yoongi plopped his ass down into the plastic bench just as the carriage lurched upwards.
He blinked, eyes zeroing in on Jimin as the younger boy sat down a few inches away from him, one leg pulling up closer to his chest. He smiled at Yoongi, a look that managed to look innocent and alluring all at once. Well, that fit, Yoongi thought numbly. The kid was making Yoongi half hard in his pants by eating cotton candy.
Jimin glanced down at the cotton candy, then back up at Yoongi before picking out another piece. He opened his mouth, tongue curling out and flicking against his finger before lips wrapped tight around the digits.
And he moaned.
Yoongi shifted, inhaling sharply. Their carriage was about halfway up the first side of the O. Yoongi decided he was going to take full advantage of this situation.
His warning to Jimin was brief.
“Don’t fucking drop the cotton candy.”
He swooped forward, grabbing Jimin around the waist and pulling the other boy roughly onto him. Jimin, to his credit, worked well with the movement, easily straddling the older boy’s hips.
Yoongi took a moment to appreciate the color of Jimin’s lips, slightly pinker from whatever dye was used on the cotton candy, shimmery and glistening. He cupped the back of Jimin’s head and pulled the other boy down so he could just taste him. Jimin was sweet, sweet in a way Yoongi couldn’t get enough of. The kiss was open mouthed, sticky and messy from the cotton candy residue on Jimin’s lips. Jimin’s hips rocked down against Yoongi’s, his breath whimpering in his throat as Yoongi sucked on his plump lower lip.
“H-hyung,” Jimin breathed. One hand was gripping the collar of Yoongi’s jacket, the other the cotton candy, hovering in the air beside them.
“You taste good,” Yoongi said huskily into his throat, his hands coming up under Jimin’s sweater, caressing the warm, muscled skin underneath. Fuck.
“I thought you didn’t like cotton candy.”
Yoongi pushed Jimin’s sweater up so his tongue could lave at skin of Jimin’s chest, where goosebumps were popping up as the cold night air hit them. Jimin shivered.
“Anything tastes good on you,” Yoongi murmured. The Ferris wheel came to a steady stop, their carriage nearly at the top center as more people were loaded below. His fingers flicked playfully over the bulge in Jimin’s jeans. “What’s this?”
“H-hyung,” Jimin moaned, his cotton candy arm wavering.
Yoongi’s hands moved roughly up Jimin’s back, nails scraping then digging as he found a grip and rocked Jimin against him. “Keep that arm up, beautiful. You wouldn’t want to drop a gift from me, would you?”
Jimin flushed, looking at Yoongi darkly as the older man rubbed his palm over the swell in Jimin’s jeans. “You got leggings on, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Jimin hissed, sounding as though he was regretting the decision. His hips were rocking steadily against Yoongi’s. Yoongi was pretty sure their carriage was rocking too. “Hyung, want you to touch me.”
“I’ll bet you do, you fucking tease,” Yoongi said, and leaned forward to flick his tongue over Jimin’s left nipple. Jimin let out a choked cry that was drowned out in the steady thrum of music coming from below. Jimin’s cotton candy arm wavered again and Yoongi scraped his teeth over the nipple, other hand coming up to support Jimin’s. His fingers squeezed around Jimin’s arm, which was trembling.
“Come on, angel. Keep it steady.”
He released Jimin’s arm, bringing the same hand up to the cotton candy. The carriage shifted underneath them as the wheel began to move again. A generous amount of pink sticking to Yoongi’s finger, he brought it up to Jimin’s lips.
Yoongi didn’t need to say anything, didn’t have a chance to as Jimin leaned forward and sucked Yoongi’s finger into his mouth, tongue wrapping hotly around his finger as he licked the candy off. Yoongi’s eyes were dark as he pulled his finger back, his breathing heavy.
“More, hyung. Please?” Jimin whispered. He smiled, wickedly. “You taste good, too.”
Yoongi took another piece of cotton candy and held it up to Jimin’s lips. This time, Jimin pulled three digits into his mouth, Yoongi’s thumb, pointer finger, and middle finger. His eyes slide shut as his tongue flicked out against the webbing of skin between Yoongi’s fingers. Jimin sucked, sticky spit slicking the corners of his mouth, moaning, legs widening over Yoongi’s lap so he could get a better angle as he dry humped Yoongi’s crotch.
“Fuck,” Yoong growled, pushing his fingers in further, cock jumping in his pants at Jimin’s small gag. He made to pull back but Jimin’s free hand came up to hold Yoongi’s wrist gently in place, just long enough so he could slowly run his tongue over the skin and pull Yoongi’s fingers out at his own pace.
For a beat, they just stared at each other, both breathing heavily. The carriage was nearly halfway down the last curve of the O.
Yoongi surged up and kissed Jimin hard and slow, breathing in Jimin’s soft exhale and just tasting him, all chocolate and mint and sugar and Yoongi just wanted to inhale him in. The carriage swayed underneath them, but Yoongi was only dimly aware, more focused on the feeling of Jimin’s fingers on his cheek, the metal of his rings cold against his flushed skin. They pulled apart and Jimin gently shifted so he was no longer straddling Yoongi, but stayed curled against his side, a decidedly more innocent look for the general public as their carriage neared the bottom part of the wheel for the first loop around.
“Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin murmured against his chest, hand skimming over the bulge in Yoongi’s jeans, something that would not be visible to those outside the Ferris wheel but still had Yoongi’s grip around Jimin’s shoulders tightening. Jimin pushed the cotton candy stick into Yoongi’s other hand and released it quickly so Yoongi automatically scrambled to not let it fall. Their carriage swung past the loading dock as Jimin unbuttoned the older boy’s jeans. “Don’t drop it.”
His knees hit the floor of the carriage with a dull metal thud. Deft fingers were fingering the fly opening in Yoongi's boxers, pulling out his half (okay, slightly more than half) hard cock. Yoongi didn’t even have a chance to hiss at the cold air before Jimin’s lips were wrapping around him, smokey eyes looking right into Yoongi’s as he took him completely in his mouth.
“Fuck,” Yoongi groaned, his head falling back. The hand holding the cotton candy slammed back against the carriage railing and his free hand was shoving the beanie off Jimin’s head, fingers finding a grip in the soft, pale strands. Jimin moaned, the noise vibrating around Yoongi and forcing a shudder out of him. “Fuck,” he said again. His vocabulary was dwindling fast.
Jimin, the little shit, fucking laughed, the sound muffled and short as his mouth was otherwise preoccupied.
“Yeah?” Yoongi said, twisting his fingers in Jimin’s hair and feeling goosebumps sprout on his skin at the way Jimin’s eyes glittered up at him. “Look at you. So eager for it.”
Jimin didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to, because he pushed forward again, tip of Yoongi’s dick hitting the back of his throat as he swallowed, tongue pressing up against the underside of Yoongi’s cock, and the noise Yoongi made was just as eager, just as needy.
Jimin’s eyes cut to the cotton candy coming dangerously close to the seat, and he pulled back, sliding his tongue up against the underside again as he did. “Yoongi-hyung, don’t drop it. I’m not finished.”
Yoongi wanted to retort, with me or the cotton candy, but Jimin didn't wait for him, lips wrapping around his dick again. He slurped and bobbed his head fervently, eyes hot on Yoongi, who was honestly having trouble keeping his open. Jimin was sucking him off as if he didn’t want to waste a moment of their limited time. They were already close to the top. Yoongi wasn’t complaining.
“Jimin, shit,” Yoongi said, leaning his head back against the metal railing, fingers stroking restlessly through Jimin’s hair. “Nng, fuck!”
Jimin’s grip on Yoongi’s hips tightened as he moaned around Yoongi. He shifted forward so much that his nose was pressing against the sparse, dark hairs at the base of Yoongi’s cock and stayed there, tongue lapping slowly against the underside.
The noise Yoongi made was ragged, his thumb coming to gently swipe at the tears in Jimin’s eyes. “Fuck, you’re amazing,” he growled.
Jimin seemed to internally preen at the praise, bobbing his head with more vigor, causing Yoongi to nearly drop the cotton candy from the top of the Ferris wheel. “Jimin, ah, fuck—fuck!”
Jimin’s thick, pink lips were taut around Yoongi’s length as he sucked, cheeks hollowing, tongue flicking up around the tip. Yoongi grunted, his grip in Jimin’s hair tightening so much so that Jimin couldn’t move, nor did he try to as Yoongi slowly canted his hips up, fucking into Jimin’s mouth.
“You look so good taking it in your mouth,” Yoongi breathed, his voice raspy. “You’re being so good for me, angel,” he said, remembering Jimin’s teasing promise the first night they met. If the huff of laughter was anything to go by, Jimin remembered too.
The Ferris wheel was paused again, this time their carriage sitting a little past the highest point. Yoongi didn’t mind the hard plastic against his back, the cotton candy stick tacky in his palm, the cold metal of the railing pressing against his head, still tilted backwards. His free hand was still carding through Jimin’s hair as he mumbled low praises to the younger boy, how good his mouth felt, how good he was being, how fucking pretty he was.
The carriage swayed as the Ferris wheel came to life.
“Jimin,” Yoongi grunted, tugging at Jimin’s hair. Jimin did something with his tongue that had Yoongi weak limbed all over again. “Jimin. Ah-agh, you’re going to—” he gasped. “Kill me.”
Jimin seemed to want to pull off of Yoongi less the more the older boy tugged at him. The carriage was slowly lowering around its final curve before the loading dock. “Jimin, you little shit,” Yoongi said, his voice a lot more breathless and a lot less threatening than he liked. “Fuck-fuck-fuck,” he moaned, sinking lower down the seat.
Jimin pulled off him with an obscene, wet popping sound, pressing a kiss on the head of his dick before gently tucking it away. Yoongi was glad Jimin buttoned him back up too. He wasn’t sure he could feel his fingers.
Jimin slithered up against him, taking the cotton candy from Yoongi’s stiff fingers before curling up against his side once more. Their carriage swooped by the loading dock. Yoongi barely noticed, instead wrapping his arms around Jimin and holding him close against his body.
“You are an angel,” Yoongi mumbled into Jimin’s hair. He hooked his fingers under Jimin’s knees and pulled so Jimin’s legs were draped over his. It made it easier for Yoongi to bend down and grab the black cloth sitting on the floor, which looked basically clean.
Yoongi straightened, pulling Jimin closer against him still with one arm as he shook out the beanie with the other. Jimin was watching him with a small smile.
“Here, you fucking demon,” Yoongi said, but his fingers were gentle as he pulled the hat back down over Jimin’s ears, fingers brushing against the cool metal of Jimin’s piercings as he did. Jimin shivered.
“How can I be both?”
Yoongi pursed his lips. “Demons used to be angels or something, no?”
“I think that’s just Satan,” Jimin said, then stifled a giggle. “You’re seriously calling me the devil.”
“No innocent creature could do what you just did with your tongue.”
Jimin smiled at him, his grin playful and his eyes slanting. “Did you like it?”
Yoongi didn’t answer right away, and Jimin pouted a little at him, finally rolling his eyes and popping a piece of cotton candy in his mouth before resting his head on Yoongi’s shoulder.
His body was warm. And firm. Fuck, Yoongi thought, fingers trailing down Jimin’s side and tickling over his thighs. He was definitely slightly obsessed. He had to resist the urge to squeeze the skin there tightly, head full of images of Jimin on his knees, lips pink and flush around Yoongi’s cock and hooded eyes looking right up into his.
He spoke right as they were nearing the top of the Ferris wheel. “Angel,” he said, feeling Jimin shift against him, head tilting up to look at Yoongi as he spoke. “I’m gonna get you back for that.”
He saw Jimin’s grin out of the corner of his eye, still looking straight ahead of him “Yoongi...”
Yoongi’s hand came up to grip the back of Jimin’s neck, turning his head so his lips were pressed against his forehead. “Forgetting something?” he whispered.
“Hyung,” Jimin whined, and he was tilting his head up, lips seeking Yoongi’s and parting in a sigh at the feeling of Yoongi’s tongue trailing over his bottom lip.
“Shit,” Jimin panted when Yoongi swirled his tongue around his. Not giving him a chance to elaborate, Yoongi kissed him again, and again, tongue languid against Jimin’s, lips soft as they sucked Jimin’s tongue into his mouth. Jimin for a minute, was not breathing.
Slowly, gradually, the kisses became less heated, and more soft. Yoongi’s long fingers were gently grasping Jimin’s jaw. Jimin made a soft noise of contentment as Yoongi’s pressed kisses against it, his nose, the skin just in front of his ear, and his lips again, and again.
When they came off the Ferris wheel, Yoongi’s hand tucked into Jimin’s back pocket, hidden by the younger boy’s oversized purple sweater. It gave Yoongi freedom to squeeze and feel as he pleased.
And damn, was it nice.
Jimin kept pace easily next to him, occasionally shooting the older boy a mischievous smile. Yoongi shoved him, playfully, but Jimin fell right back in step with Yoongi and the older boy’s hand fell easily back into place too.
“So,” Yoongi said after they had both gotten in the car and shut the doors.
Jimin hummed. “I had such a nice time.”
Yoongi couldn’t help but smile a little. “Good.” He paused. “So, I like you.”
Jimin raised an eyebrow. “Are you gonna say “but?”
Yoongi made a noncommittal noise. “I like you. But I want to take you home and fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.” Yoongi chuckled, his voice raspy. “But only if you’ll come on a second date with me.”
Jimin adjusted his car seat so he was leaning back a little. He smiled at Yoongi, his cheeks pink. “I want that,” he said softly. Then, in a more teasing then, “Hoseok should have warned me how cheesy and romantic you are.”
“Fucking you silly is cheesy and romantic?”
Jimin giggled, not phased. “The second date, Yoongi-hyung. Taking me here. Buying me the cotton candy.”
“Special treatment. You think I’m this nice to Hoseok?”
Jimin grinned. “I think you’re secretly nice to everyone.”
“You really do talk dirty,” Yoongi said. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, eyes scanning the road for the highway entrance. “So. Your place or mine? Hoseok is going to be home,” he added with an apologetic shrug.
Jimin chewed on his lip. “Taehyung will be home, too.”
Yoongi chuckled again. “So it’s between who you’d rather hear you.”
Jimin flushed, biting his lip around a pretty grin. “Seriously?”
They rolled to a slow stop at the last red light before the highway ramp. Yoongi took a moment to observe Jimin. “I’m not kidding.” He took his hand off the wheel, pushing the black beanie off his newly dyed hair. Jimin was watching, bottom lip still between his teeth.
Yoongi reached forward and pulled the pink flesh out from between Jimin’s teeth and rubbed it slowly. “Going to make you forget your name. Going to make you forget how to breathe. Someone is going to be hearing you screaming for me.” The light turned green, but the roads were empty and Yoongi didn’t move. Jimin’s breath washed hot over his thumb. “So, tell me Jiminie. Hoseok, or Taehyung?”
Yoongi took in the shudder that passed through Jimin’s body, observed the expression on Jimin’s face as he said the names of their friends and pocketed it to address later. He knew what Jimin would say before he answered.
Yoongi smirked a little, leaned back as his eyes flicked back to the road. “Okay, angel,” he said, his hand falling down to grip Jimin’s thigh.
The second half of the ride home involved Jimin gleefully thumbing through the tracks Yoongi had saved on his phone, after Yoongi decided he didn’t want to hear Jimin ask to hear them repeatedly for the remaining fifteen minutes of the drive, after making him swear he was not going to tell Hoseok.
Hoseok and Namjoon were the only ones he showed his unfinished, unpolished music to, and they’d never let him hear the end of it if Jimin let slip to Hoseok he’d heard more tracks that were only half finished, some just the instrumental, some missing a chorus, some only having a chorus. There just was…something about Jimin’s pleading, high pitched voice, his hopeful grin, his cute, small hands gripping Yoongi’s legs as he said, “Please hyung please.” And a deep, secret place in the back of his mind enjoyed the gleam in the younger boy’s eyes when Yoongi’s growling voice rumbled over the speakers.
“This one isn’t finished—”
“Yoongi-hyung if you tell me that one more time, I’m seriously going to hit you,” Jimin said.
“Brat,” Yoongi muttered, sinking a little lower in his seat. He felt Jimin glance at him. Heard him laugh.
“Hyung, you’re pouting. So cute,” Jimin cooed.
Yoongi rolled his eyes. “You’re asking for it.”
“Caught me,” Jimin said. He smiled, his face open and sincere. “But really, hyung. You don’t need to tell me. I know they’re not finished. You’re still so talented, it’s amazing.” He pointed up ahead. “Turn right here.”
“I would do a solo to this.”
Yoongi laughed a little. “Angel, isn’t your style more…contemporary ballet?” he teased.
Jimin shoved his arm. “Are you doubting me? After all the nice things I just said?”
Yoongi had no doubt Jimin could dance to the sound of a toilet flushing, but he liked riling him up, and Jimin seemed to enjoy it just as much. Shooting Jimin an unimpressed look, he said, “Are you just trying to butter me up?”
Jimin narrowed his eyes playfully. “You’ve seen the stuff Hoseok choreographs. I could do you, easy.”
Yoongi grinned. “That, I don’t doubt.”
Jimin shoved him again, more gently. The car slowed as Yoongi turned onto Jimin’s street. “My apartment is all the way at the end of this road. Yeah, on the left.” Jimin beamed as Yoongi put the car in park. “So,” he said, his tone teasing. “Would you like to come up?”
“Get out,” Yoongi said, and admired the back of Jimin as he hopped out of the car, laughing.
“Taehyungie~ I’m home!” Jimin sang, his fingers warm in Yoongi’s as he pulled him through the front door. He toed of his shoes, Yoongi following suit as he looked around.
The foyer was small, immediately opening up to what looked like a combination between a living room and a dining room, a blue love seat pushed up against a wall, a round table off to the side, and a flat screen television right across from the tv. A kitchen was on the opposite side, and straight down the foyer was a hallway, leading to what Yoongi assumed were the bedrooms.
“Did you get—oh! Yoongi-hyung!”
Yoongi nodded at Taehyung, who had a game controller in his hand and was splayed out on the couch. “What’s up?”
Taehyung sat up a little straighter, looking quickly from Jimin to Yoongi and back again. “So, should I, ah, are you two—”
“Please be quiet,” Jimin said, holding his hand up. “We are going to go watch a movie. In my room.”
Taehyung grinned. “What movie?”
“Something with a lot of screaming and moaning, probably,” Yoongi said with a straight face. “Might sound a little weird. Don’t be alarmed.”
“Uh huh,” Taehyung said, settling back against the couch. “Will the characters in this movie have the same names as you guys as well?”
“Ah,” Yoongi said, slightly resisting as Jimin began to drag him down the hallway. “So you’ve seen it!”
“A favorite of mine, I think,” Taehyung said. “Can’t quite remember the details. Maybe I could join you—?”
“Please stop!” Jimin exclaimed, tugging harder on Yoongi’s wrist. “Taehyung you are not invited.”
“Maybe next time, Taehyung?” Yoongi called over his shoulder.
“Depends on how good it sounds!” Taehyung yelled back.
“No, Taehyung!” Jimin said, and after a final yank on Yoongi’s wrist, slammed his bedroom door shut.
Yoongi took a beat to look around as Jimin flicked a switch and a lamp on his nightstand came to life, casting the room in a dim glow. It was small and neat, save for a couple random piles of things, clothes in one corner, what looked like a tangle of six different headphones on top of a dresser in the other corner. His bed was half made, one corner of the dark blue covers pulled down to reveal rumpled sky blue sheets. Diagonally across from the bed was a mahogany desk, where a laptop sat next to a sleek, silver sound system.
“You two are the worst,” Jimin whined, walking over to the desk and clicking a key to bring the laptop to life. Yoongi was not afraid to admit he took immense pleasure in the stuttering breath that slipped out when Yoongi gripped Jimin’s wrist in between his fingers and murmured into his ear, “What are you doing?”
Jimin quickly recovered, shooting Yoongi a look over his shoulder. “We don’t have to watch the movie, hyung.”
Yoongi smiled at him, wide and gummy and even wider still when Jimin sucked his lower lip nervously in between his teeth. “There is something I want to watch.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, thumbed through it for a few seconds, then reached to plug the auxiliary cord connected to the sound system to his phone.
“I have a song for you. A finished song."
Jimin’s eyes widened, looking from the sound system, to the phone, and back to Yoongi.
“I want you to dance to it for me.”
Jimin opened his mouth, closed it, then smiled. “This is brand new?”
Yoongi hummed, shuffling back towards the bed and sitting down. “I started making it…maybe a month or two ago?” He smirked. “Might have been recently inspired.”
Jimin crossed his arms. “I don’t get to practice or prepare for you?”
“I have faith in your abilities, Jiminie.”
Jimin grinned. “Give me two minutes to stretch,” he said, already bending down and tickling his toes with the tips of his fingers. “I promise it will be worth it.”
Yoongi shrugged off his jacket. “We have all night, angel. Take your time.”
Jimin hummed, bending one knee in a crouch, bouncing a little as he adjusted. Yoongi smiled a little, and Jimin caught this, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
“What is it?”
“Oh, nothing,” Yoongi said, smiling again when Jimin, as he switched bent knees, repeated the bouncing movement before stretching out over the extended leg.
“Mhm,” Jimin said, his eyes darkening just a little. “Now you’re asking for it.”
Yoongi chuckled. “I really am.”
Jimin grinned at him as he straightened and wasted no more time, turning towards the speaker system and pressing a button to bring it to life. He leaned over the phone, and before pressing play, he shot Yoongi a hooded look over his shoulder.
“Okay, hyung. Just for you.”
The speakers came to life with a deep thrum, and it was like a switch went off in Jimin, like the bass was literally vibrating within Jimin’s body. He moved, fuck, he moved, like the music was inside him, every part of his body in tune with each other, from his toes all the way up to his fingertips.
And that was not even mentioning the look on his face—in his eyes. He was pinning Yoongi to the bed with his eyes alone as his hips shifted, swayed, his elbow crooking to pull off a complicated movement that Yoongi would have missed if he’d blinked. Fortunately he hadn’t—he couldn’t. Couldn’t look away from Jimin, even for a second. Faintly, in the back of his head, he realized he was probably falling hard.
He had spent two weeks straight putting together this track, with only Jimin on his mind. The beat was slow and steady, a deep, sexy rhythm that Yoongi thought was perfect for Jimin, and every movement of the boy’s hips, the small bites on his lower lip, were proving Yoongi right.
Yoongi thought he might go into cardiac arrest when, as the bass thrummed heavy, Jimin dropped low to the ground, and as he rose back up, a slow and controlled movement, his jeans were coming off too, being pushed over his hips, over rippling thigh muscles. Yoongi exhaled, sharply, as Jimin stepped out of them.
The leggings Jimin was wearing underneath the jeans were shimmery, definitely sheer when he shifted and the dim light from the lamp hit it in a certain way, leaving little to the imagination. Yoongi licked his dry lower lip, mesmerized with the control of Jimin’s legs, breath catching in his throat as, when, as a deep electronic thrum layered over the current steady beat, Jimin lowered himself to the ground again, except this time, his legs were on either side of him, in a honest-to-god split.
“Shit,” Yoongi said, before he could help himself. Jimin smiled at him, dripping wickedness and confidence, gyrating his hips slowly, swinging his legs forward and around so his back was to Yoongi, lurching into a standing position more gracefully then Yoongi thought was fair or allowed. The muscles in his legs were thick and rippling and glorious.
The younger boy turned, looking at Yoongi darkly over his shoulder before pulling the purple sweater over his head and tossing it somewhere in the corner, and whereas a minute ago Yoongi’s thoughts had been a mantra of fuck thighs, it was now fuck thighs motherfucking abs.
It was at the moment in the song that Yoongi’s voice, a deep, gravelly murmur, rumbled over the speakers. He had not put himself in this song until the end, and then, only a little bit, but he suddenly wished he had more lines, because Jimin’s head tilted back as he rolled his body and a whimpering sigh slipped past his lips. He dropped low to the ground again, very close to Yoongi now, close enough that went he raised himself back up, his legs brushed against Yoongi’s knees.
“Angel,” Yoongi said, his voice husky and low. “You’re incredible.”
Jimin grinned at him, legs still moving, hips still rolling, abs flexing with each shift of his body. His knees were suddenly on either side of Yoongi’s hips, Yoongi’s hands gripping the material of his sheer leggings and yanking.
“Off,” he growled.
“Be patient, hyung,” Jimin whispered against his mouth, hips slowly gyrating against the older boy’s.
Yoongi huffed, fingers dipping past the material so he could feel the warm skin underneath, see the shudder it brought forth in Jimin.
“Gonna be so good for you,” Jimin said softly into his ear, his own fingers dipping underneath the waistband of the leggings and pulling down. Yoongi swallowed, hard, when he realized Jimin was not wearing underwear.
“You dirty little shit,” Yoongi breathed, his hands gripping the globes of Jimin’s ass. “Can’t believe you were out all night like this.”
“Really?” Jimin said, licking the lobe of Yoongi’s ear. He shimmied his hips a little, and dimly, Yoongi registered that the song had ended. He tried pulling the leggings down again, and this time, Jimin did not stop him. Instead, he pushed at Yoongi’s chest. Yoongi allowed himself to fall back, giving Jimin more room to kick off the remainder of his leggings. When he was done, Yoongi found himself with an armful of a very naked, very hot Park Jimin laying on top of him.
He had surely died and gone to heaven.
The heat burning in his chest caused him to lift himself up in a surge, crushing his lips against Jimin’s in a wet, open mouthed kiss. He’d been kissing the younger boy all night, but something about this was hotter, needier, more. And it wasn’t just because Jimin was stark naked on top of him.
Okay, maybe that had a little something to do with it.
Jimin seemed to realize the position they were in, because he pulled back from Yoongi—or tried to—Yoongi followed his mouth with his own, pressing kisses to Jimin’s lips over and over and over again, making it hard for the younger boy to speak.
“Yoongi—hyung—Yoongi—” Jimin gasped, voice breaking off in a whimper as Yoongi sucked his lower lip into his mouth. “Hyung—your shirt—” he whined, tilting his head so Yoongi could only access his jaw and neck, something Yoongi could easily work with. “Take—ah—shirt—off—” His breath came out in a stutter as Yoongi nibbled and sucked over the honey skin of his neck, biting where it met his jaw. “Hyung please.”
“Only 'cause you asked so nicely,” Yoongi said against his jaw, leaning back just enough so that he and Jimin, both with scrambling hands, could pull his shirt up and over his head.
Jimin made a appreciative noise, pushing Yoongi back, more roughly this time, so his back was flat against the mattress and Jimin had total freedom to lean down and press hot, open mouthed kisses against the pale skin of his neck, down his chest, teeth scraping over his nipples, sucking and biting red marks into the flesh of his sides.
“Jimin,” Yoongi gasped, fingers gripping the younger boy’s pale hair. Jimin mumbled something incoherent in response, already working at the clasp on Yoongi’s pants, hurriedly unzipping his fly in a way that made Yoongi’s hips twitch. “Jimin, shit, careful—”
“Sorry hyung, I just—” Yoongi’s head pressed back against the mattress, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp as Jimin mouthed the hard bulge under Yoongi’s boxers. “I want you.”
Yoongi closed his eyes, lifted his hips to let the younger boy pulled down his pants and boxers in one go, giving a hard yank when they caught around his ankles and throwing them somewhere in the general vicinity of his purple sweater. He reached down, fingers tickling the skin of Jimin’s jaw, tracing back so he had a gentle grip on the back of the boy’s neck. “I know angel, but we have all night,” he said softly. “Come here.”
Jimin looked up at Yoongi, something rebellious and stubborn in his eyes. He trailed a finger up the underside of Yoongi’s cock, which, thanks to Jimin’s private show, was rock hard. Yoongi held in a hiss, knowing it would give the younger boy immense satisfaction to hear the way just that smallest touch was affecting him.
“Didn’t you get enough earlier?” Yoongi said, his voice rough, pushing himself up a little on one elbow so he could look down at Jimin.
Jimin smiled, sweetly, poking his tongue out to lick the flushed tip. “Mm. No.”
Yoongi’s grip tightened on back of Jimin’s neck. “Pinch me if I’m going too far—for anything, okay?”
Jimin blinked at him, the dark glimmer clearing for just a moment as he looked at Yoongi, lips parted. He nodded once, then licked the tip again, flattening his tongue against the head. "You're so sweet, hyung," Jimin said, breath washing over the flushed skin of his cock. "I'll take whatever you give me."
Yoongi's cheeks felt warm. “Take it then,” he breathed, fingernails scraping Jimin’s scalp as he shifted his head, pushing the younger boy down, down all the way until the tip of his dick was pressed against the back of Jimin’s throat.
Jimin moaned and Yoongi moaned at the vibration, at the hot cavern that was Jimin’s mouth, his godforsaken mouth. Jimin’s fingers tickled the skin of Yoongi’s hips, his other hand coming to cup his balls, rolling them between his fingers as he bobbed his head up and down.
“Fuck,” Yoongi whispered, still leaning on his elbow, providing him a stunning view of Jimin moving up and down on Yoongi’s dick, eyes fluttering shut with each downward movement as if there were nothing else in the world but Yoongi’s cock. “Look at you, taking it so well. So eager for it, aren’t you, angel?”
“Mmm,” Jimin hummed, eyes opening to meet Yoongi’s. He pulled off with a soft pop, brought his head down lower to tongue Yoongi’s balls before taking one in his mouth.
“Good boy,” Yoongi breathed, releasing his grip and stroking his fingers gently through Jimin’s hair, pushing his silvery blonde hair back from his forehead. “So good for me. Feels so good.”
His dick was throbbing, a hot, wet pulsing that felt so good it almost hurt. Jimin, the angel he was, wrapped his small fingers around the hot flesh, smearing precum over the head and pumping up and down as he mouthed at Yoongi’s balls.
“Jimin, come here,” Yoongi groaned. “As much as I’d love to come all over that pretty face, how about we save that for later, yeah?”
Jimin lapped at the underside of Yoongi’s cock before speaking, his tone playful. “Gonna come already? You’re no fun.”
Yoongi laughed as he lurched forward, bodily pulling the younger boy forward so their faces were level again. Jimin dipped his head down to kiss Yoongi cutely on the mouth.
“I think it’s about time I paid you back,” Yoongi breathed against his mouth, before gripping him tightly by the arms and flipping them around so Jimin was underneath him.
Jimin giggled, tucking his chin against his collarbone and batting his eyelashes up at Yoongi. “Are you going to suck me off, hyung?”
Yoongi scraped his tongue against the underside of his front teeth, raising his eyebrows as he looked down at Jimin. Took in the sharp collarbones, chiseled skin of his abs, his hard cock pretty and flushed against his stomach, down to his thighs, fucking thighs—
He shifted, just enough so that he could lean down and press his open mouth against said thighs, first the right, then the left, sucking a sliver of firm flesh in between his teeth and biting.
“Ah—ah,” Jimin whimpered, legs twitching around Yoongi’s head. He smiled against the flesh, laved his tongue against it, then repeated the motion. Jimin let out another cry.
“Your thighs Jimin,” Yoongi whispered, moving onto the other leg and sucking another spot into existence. “Want to mark them all up. Make you think of me every time you look down.”
“Yoongi,” Jimin whispered as he continued to suck hickeys into the skin. He bucked his hips up, reaching down to touch his cock. “Yoongi—pl—”
“Forgetting something?” Yoongi said, punctuating the question with a sharp bite.
“Ah—hyung, Yoongi-hyung, please.”
Jimin moaned, hands coming up to grip his hair. “Want your mouth. Please.”
Yoongi straightened up, pressing two more, gentle kisses to each of Jimin’s thighs, taking a second to admire the marks that were already forming. He looked back up at Jimin, allowed himself to smirk as Jimin watched him.
Jimin’s cheeks pinkened, pretty swollen lips parting. It made Yoongi weak, how confident he was one second, how demure he acted the next. He squeezed Jimin’s hip in warning.
“I thought you were going to be good for hyung? Turn around.”
Jimin huffed, turning slowly enough that Yoongi had a feeling he was being difficult on purpose, just to egg Yoongi on. He took the bait, gladly, landing a light smack to Jimin’s ass, admiring the way it jiggled, the small yelp that escaped the younger boy’s mouth.
“Hands and knees for me.”
Jimin’s breathing was becoming heavier, as if he knew what Yoongi was about to do, but still, he moaned Yoongi’s name loudly when the older boy gripped the globes of his cheeks and spread them apart, licking a flat, wet stripe right up the middle.
“Fuck,” Jimin shouted when Yoongi repeated the action.
Yoongi squeezed his ass. “Language, angel.”
“Fuck, hyung, fuck,” Jimin moaned as Yoongi kissed at his hole, teasingly. “I c-can’t help it, Yoongi-hyung—so good—feels so good.”
Yoongi hummed, pressing another hot, open mouthed kiss against his hole before beginning to flick his tongue up and down against the puckered flesh, letting his saliva pool in his mouth, getting Jimin’s ass wet and slick with Yoongi’s spit.
Jimin’s arms were trembling, and he made to lower himself on his elbows, but Yoongi pulled back a little, tsking. “Hands and knees, Jimin. Be good for me.”
Jimin whined, loud and breathy, soft little ah ah ah's hushing out of his mouth like a prayer as Yoongi leaned back in, flicking his tongue harder against his hole, the tip dipping in past the first ring of muscle at random.
“So good—with your mouth hyung—” Jimin gasped. “S’good. So good.”
“Mm,” Yoongi hummed, pressing his tongue in just a little more. Jimin’s body trembled. “You sound so pretty for me, angel.” Then, without further warning, pushed his tongue in as far as the tight ring of muscle would allow.
Jimin screamed, falling forward onto his forearms and pushing his ass back further against Yoongi’s face. Yoongi didn’t reprimand him, didn’t care to, instead only gripping Jimin’s cheeks tighter, spreading them as far as they would go and tongue fucking his hole in earnest, wanting to hear more of Jimin’s noises, wanting to feel him come apart from his tongue alone.
“Yoongi-hyung oh my God, fuck, yes,” he moaned, keening when Yoongi wiggled his tongue inside of Jimin’s walls, fucking sobbing when a finger slowly pushed in alongside the wet muscle.
“Can you get the lube for me, pretty thing?” Yoongi murmured against his ass, delicious and full and tight, and before Jimin could respond, began licking at his hole again, flicking against the puckered skin.
“Ye-yeah,” Jimin whispered brokenly, reaching out to his nightstand and pulling open the drawer. He had to lean forward a little, and Yoongi didn’t give him a break, following the movement with his tongue, relishing in the high whine that came out of Jimin’s mouth as he fumbled around his drawer.
“Hyung, I can’t—fuck—” he said, a clatter in the drawer following his plea as he dropped what Yoongi suspected was the lube.
Yoongi breathed a laugh against Jimin’s sensitive skin. “C’mon angel. Don’t you want my fingers?”
“Yes, yes—Yoongi—here,” he said, tossing the bottle back on the covers next to Yoongi.
Yoongi pulled back for a moment, with a soft “don’t move,” whispered against Jimin’s skin before he did, unscrewing the cap and squeezing a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm the liquid.
Then he leaned back in, licked up and into Jimin’s hole, repeating the motion with a languid, but firm pace. Jimin whined again, loudly, and Yoongi whispered in between licks, “You’re so loud. Taehyung is going to hear you.”
“F-fine,” Jimin hissed back. “Let him hear. I just want you to—not stop. Please.”
Yoongi grinned, flicked his tongue around his entrance again, and took one slickened finger and pushed it past the ring of muscle.
Fuck, he was tight.
Yoongi pulled his head back, enough to watch how Jimin’s little hole sucked in just one finger so well, all the way to the knuckle as he pumped in and out.
Jimin was gasping, the sound wet and ragged. Yoongi pressed his upper body against Jimin’s backside as he pushed in a second finger, eyes dark as they met Jimin’s, took in the way his tongue licked the at the corner of his mouth where drool was pooling, his lips parted as he panted against the covers. He was so warm, and wet, and tight, and Yoongi told him so. Jimin closed his eyes for a heartbeat, grinning a little crookedly as Yoongi’s scissored his fingers.
“Feel good?” Yoongi whispered.
“Yes. Want more,” Jimin replied. He wiggled his hips. “More, hyung.”
“Yeah?” Yoongi breathed. “Greedy little slut, aren’t you?”
Jimin’s breath stuttered, as did his hips.
“Tell me,” Yoongi said, pulling back so just the tips of his fingers wiggled inside of Jimin.
“Y-yes,” Jimin moaned. “I am, I want you to—to fill me up.”
“Good boy,” Yoongi said lowly, and as he pushed in a third finger, he also flicked his tongue against the entrance, humming at the moan the action pulled from Jimin’s mouth. He blew on the sensitive skin, leaning back so he could focus on the fingers again, pumping them in and out of Jimin roughly. A minute in, he felt the tips brush against a bundle of nerves, and he gripped Jimin’s thigh with his free hand, pressing harder, tickling the younger boy’s prostate.
“Ah!” Jimin cried, shaking his head back and forth against the covers. “Ah-ah-there, yes, fuck, there—”
“Hm?” Yoongi said, purposefully avoiding the spot. “Was that nice?”
Jimin whined. “Please, oh please—Yoongi-hyung—”
Yoongi pressed against the bundle again, growling at the noise Jimin made and the way his body moved.
“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoo—” Jimin’s chants broke off with a moan as Yoongi leaned down and swirled his tongue around the rim where his fingers scissored.
“Sorry?” Yoongi murmured against the puckered skin. “You keep forgetting something”
“Hyung,” Jimin all but sobbed. “Hyung feels so good, want to you inside me hyung, please, please, hyung, hyung...l—”
Yoongi felt drunk off of Jimin’s babbling, couldn’t stop the rough chuckle that slipped past this lips, heat coiling in his stomach moreso at Jimin’s responding whine.
“Shh, sh,” he mumbled, kissing his way up Jimin’s back, slowly scissoring his fingers inside him. “Okay, angel. Condoms?”
“Drawer,” Jimin said, nodding at the same place where he had fumbled for the lube.
Yoongi kissed the back of Jimin’s neck, pulling his fingers out and kissing Jimin again when the boy whined. He reached into the drawer, finding a box of condoms and pulling one from the fold, sitting back on his heels as he tore open the packet.
“How do you want it, angel?” Yoongi said, smoothing a hand over Jimin’s ass.
Jimin shuddered, pushing himself up and turning onto his back, surging forward and kissing Yoongi, who had fortunately just finished rolling the condom on. Jimin’s hands curled around Yoongi’s neck, holding him close as his tongue pushed into his mouth, licking the insides, tasting himself on the older boy.
“I want to see you,” Jimin said against his lips.
“Lay back, then,” Yoongi said, gently pushing forward until Jimin’s back was against the covers.
Jimin smiled up at him, his lips still wet with saliva, lifting his legs up and holding them against his chest. Yoongi thought, as he pressed the head of his cock against Jimin’s hole, he’d never seen anything so stunning.
That was until he pushed in, bottoming out in one fluid motion, and Jimin’s body arched, his head pressing into the mattress as his body bowed off the bed, mouth opening in a broken gasp. Yoongi himself had to grit his teeth, hands gripping at Jimin’s hips hard enough to bruise. He was inside Jimin. Jimin was hot, in every sense of the word, the way his abdominal muscles contracted as he panted, the flush in his cheeks, the darker strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, the heat around his pulsing, hard cock.
“Baby,” Yoongi breathed, shifting back and forward just slightly, pulling a moan from Jimin. “You’re so tight.”
“Ah—ahn,” Jimin cried, arching back against the bed again. “Yoongi,” he gasped, and Yoongi didn’t scold him this time, didn’t care to, was too focused on the look on Jimin’s face, the tightness around his cock. He groaned, shifting.
“Can I move, angel?” he asked.
“Y-yes, please,” Jimin responded breathlessly. “I’m not gonna break, hyung.”
Yoongi grinned. “You are remarkably flexible,” he said, and then, as if to test the theory, pushed his hands underneath Jimin’s legs and shoved upwards, almost bending him in half as he began to move his hips against him.
He moved hard, but slow, having to hold back a shiver the first few times he felt his hips press against the swell of Jimin’s ass. Jimin was gorgeous underneath him, releasing small little gasps that ended in high pitched whines, hooking one leg, then the other, over Yoongi’s shoulder, giving him a dizzying angle to thrust into, making him just as breathless. His hips began to move faster, his grip on Jimin’s tightening and when he thrust in almost violently and held himself there, deep inside, he knew he had hit that special bundle of nerves.
Jimin’s reaction was immediate, and gratifying. He moaned loudly, encouraging Yoongi to go harder still, thrashing his head from side to side as Yoongi fucked into him. “So tight—” he grunted, holding back a shudder as Jimin shot him a hazy, dark look from underneath his eyelids and clenched around him. “Fuck, baby.”
Jimin gasped, pushing his upper body up and tilting his head, just a little. Yoongi got the message, leaning down the rest of the way and fastening his lips over Jimin’s. It was messy, unrefined, and neither of them cared, tongues slipping out to caress the other, Jimin whining into Yoongi’s mouth half the time as Yoongi kissed him, murmuring how good he sounded, looked, felt.
“Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin gasped. He pushed himself up more. “Please—I wanna—wanna ride you.”
Yoongi blinked, nibbled on Jimin’s lower lip for a moment, hips slowing down to a deep, thrusting motion. “C’mere, then,” he said. His cock slipped out as he laid down, pulling Jimin on top of him.
Jimin was breathing heavy, but there was dark gleam in his eye, not very different from the look he had on his face when he had begun dancing. He positioned himself over Yoongi, reaching back to adjust his cock at his entrance as Yoongi smoothed his hands over his thighs.
“I think you’re a little obsessed, hyung,” Jimin teased breathlessness as Yoongi squeezed. Slowly, he began to lower himself down.
Yoongi smirked up at him, letting out a slow breath as Jimin bottomed out. Obsessed. True. But he wasn’t the only one.
“You know what I think?” Yoongi murmured, his voice a low gravel he usually saved for the studio. Jimin’s eyes focused on his as he began to slowly move, up, and down, and up again, drinking in Yoongi’s words. “I think you’re a dirty little slut. Can’t get enough of my cock, can you? Just look at you,” he crooned as Jimin picked up his pace, biting his lip to stifle the sound of his pants, still looking directly into Yoongi’s eyes. “Taking me so well. Letting me fill you up,” he said, thrusting his hips up as Jimin lowered his. Jimin gasped, pitching forward and catching himself on Yoongi’s chest. Yoongi stroked Jimin’s trembling thighs as he bounced in his lap, small, choked whimpers beginning to leak past his bitten, swollen lips.
“Yes—yes please—don’t stop,” Jimin gasped.
“Don’t stop what, baby?” Yoongi said. “Want me to keep talking to you? Hm?” He thrust up again, bit back his own groan, feeling his dick pulse hotly inside of Jimin. “Tell you how pretty you look, bouncing on my cock? How fucking—gorgeous you are, how perfect you are for me, my pretty little angel?”
“Yes,” Jimin cried, beginning to move even faster now, “yes, I wanna be—so good for you hyung—” he went rigid when Yoongi thrust up again, eyes rolling back in his head. “Right there, yes, fuck—” The glint was back in his eyes, and he moved his hips just so and began fucking himself down in earnest, the angle just perfect so that Yoongi’s dick was hitting his prostate every time. “Yoongi-hyung, baby—you feel so good inside me—gonna cum—”
Hearing Jimin moan, call him baby, seeing how hard he was fucking himself down on Yoongi, the red in his cheeks, a pretty flush traveling all the way down to his chest, his bruised thighs quivering with his movements, the moans loud and unbidden spilling from his swollen lips, Yoongi was confident when he said, “Me too, angel—you’re so good for me—g-gonna cum too.”
Yoongi shifted one hand, wrapping his fingers around Jimin’s leaking cock, pumping just a few times before Jimin let out one last, loud whine, hips moving at an erratic pace before he was coming, white ropes landing on both his and Yoongi’s chest, Yoongi catching some in his hand. Not even thinking about it, Yoongi lifted his hand to Jimin’s mouth, and when Jimin wrapped his lips around the digits, licking his own cum off of Yoongi’s fingers as he fucked himself through his orgasm, Yoongi came too. He moaned as Jimin’s teeth caught on his skin, pulled his fingers out of Jimin’s mouth, leftover over cum and spit smearing on Jimin’s chin as Yoongi grabbed him there and pulled the boy down, kissing him, not caring about the mess, relishing in it even, kissing Jimin until he saw nothing but stars behind his eyelids.
He blinked, groaning as Jimin shifted and his dick slipped out, Jimin himself letting out a soft whimper and curling his body on top of Yoongi’s, legs trembling as they squeezed Yoongi’s sides. Yoongi hugged the warm body against his, tightly, pressing slow kisses to the top of Jimin’s head.
“Holy fuck,” he finally mumbled against Jimin’s hair.
Jimin laughed breathlessly against Yoongi’s collarbone, kissing him there and lifting up just enough to wipe the mess off his face, leaning down to kiss and lick the rest off of Yoongi. Yoongi's eyelids fluttered shut. When Jimin was done, he groaned, collapsing back down onto Yoongi, who huffed but didn’t say anything, instead tracing patterns into Jimin’s lower back.
“Was so good hyung,” Jimin said finally, breaking the comfortable silence.
Yoongi hummed. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”
Jimin snuffled a laugh into his chest. “Mhm.”
Yoongi smiled, shifting so Jimin was forced to roll of him with a grumble, but Yoongi wasn’t keen on keeping the condom on for much longer. He made quick work of disposing it and falling back on his side so he and Jimin were facing each other. His hand slid up Jimin's thigh, his arm, stopping on his cheek, which was still flushed pink.
Yoongi leaned forward and kissed Jimin once, sweetly. “You’re so pretty.”
Jimin stuck out his tongue. “You’re cheesy.”
“Yeah, well, this cheesy guy just fucked you till you drooled—”
Jimin smacked him over the head.
“Aish, is that the thanks I get?”
“I’ll properly thank you on our next date,” Jimin said, snuggling into Yoongi’s chest. “Or tomorrow morning. Wanna stay over?”
Yoongi hummed. “Trying to keep me?”
Jimin smiled against his chest. “Ask me after date two.”
The fifth time Yoongi saw Jimin was the next morning.
He could get used to waking up next to Jimin, the morning rays hitting his face in a way that was so perfect Yoongi wondered how it could be real. He shifted, brow furrowing as he wondered what had woken him as, with no classes or work, there was no damn reason for him to be awake before 10AM. The smell of food was in the air, and coffee. Yoongi slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, hearing voices from somewhere in the apartment.
When he looked down at Jimin, the his eyes were open, and he was smiling up at Yoongi. “G’morning, hyung,” he said.
“Morning, angel,” he said, voice still gruff with sleep. “Why the fuck are there people in your house so early?”
Jimin furrowed his brow, sniffing the food in the air and hearing the voices as well. “Erm…dunno. Has to be Tae,” he said, also sitting up. He yawned, swinging his legs over the bed and padding over to his dresser. “Smells like breakfast though. Want to go see?”
“For the coffee, yes,” Yoongi grumbled, also standing. Before he could ask, Jimin had tossed him some clothes, which he promptly dropped from numb hands. Jimin laughed and cooed at him for being fucking cute as he pulled on his clothes.
“Shut it,” Yoongi said, half stumbling into Jimin's pants, which fit him well enough. He poked his head through the neck of the T-shirt, glaring blearily at Jimin, who looked as though he was on cloud 9, watching Yoongi with a grin. Yoongi groaned, dragging his feet over to Jimin’s door. “C’mon. I can only last so long without caffeine.”
Jimin grabbed his hand, which helped with Yoongi’s perseverance as they walked down the hallway and into the kitchen. His eyes zeroed in on the pot of coffee sitting on the kitchen counter before panning out to see Taehyung at the kitchen table, shoveling his face with eggs and toast, and Jungkook padding around in the kitchen, more eggs frying on the stove.
“Morning, hyungs,” Taehyung said cheerfully.
Jungkook looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Ah, Yoongi-hyung! You look grumpy.”
Jimin practically skipped over to the kitchen, grabbing a mug from a cabinet and pouring a cup of coffee into it. Yoongi met him halfway, taking the cup and drinking from it gratefully.
“Oh my God, how cute,” Taehyung said. “You two are so gross already. I was just telling Jungkook here about the movie you were watching last night.”
Jimin choked on a piece of toast he had taken a bite of, half groaning, half laughing.
Yoongi, the coffee in his mug already halfway gone, walked over to where Taehyung was sitting at the table and pulled out a chair for himself. “Right,” he said. “Good as you remember it being?”
Jimin began to protest, muffled when Jungkook took the rest of his toast and shoved it into his mouth.
“Better,” Taehyung said with an evil grin. He put his chin in his hands and batted his eyelashes at Yoongi. “Am I invited next time?”
“No,” Jimin said, spraying crumbs of toast everywhere. He stomped over to where Yoongi sat and draped himself over the older boy. Yoongi smiled at the possessiveness, and found himself thinking, again, Jimin was a lot of fun.
Their third date ended up being dinner Jimin had promised Yoongi, to be cooked at the older boy’s house. When he opened the door to greet Jimin, he was faced with a familiar cocky grin and a shock a bright pink hair.
“Oh, fuck,” Yoongi said as Jimin enveloped him in a hug. He huffed out a laugh, pushing the door shut behind him. “Hi, angel.”
Hoseok was sitting on the couch with Namjoon and Seokjin, whom he had invited over only after Yoongi informed him he and Jimin were having a in-house date night. He had insisted that they would regret coming over after a couple hours, that he had no intention of keeping quiet just because their intrusive asses were here.
Jimin, who Yoongi had warned about the company, waved at the three on the couch cheerfully.
“You two look like a pair of highlighters,” Hoseok said, eyeing their bright hair judgmentally.
“And you don’t know how to take a hint,” Yoongi said, pulling a beaming Jimin after him into the kitchen and ignoring the cooing noises the three of them made at their retreating backs.
Jimin was carrying a bag of groceries with him, which he set on the kitchen table before turning to smile shyly at Yoongi as he pushed his hand through his hair.
Yoongi raised an eyebrow at him, smiling in return. “I like it.”
Jimin bit his lip. “I thought you might not. Thought it looked too much like cotton candy.”
“Well,” Yoongi drawled, pulling Jimin to him and pushing his own fingers through the soft strands. “I think cotton candy may have grown on me.” He kissed him on the lips, a gentle, lingering touch that left them both wanting more. “Especially when it’s on you.”
“Oi!” a voice yelled from the living room. “When is dinner going to be ready?”
“When you order take out!” Yoongi yelled back. “Fucking leeches!”
Jimin was laughing. “I brought enough for everyone, hyung. They don’t have to order food.”
“Oh yes they do,” Yoongi grumbled. “I believe you promised to cook just for me.”
Jimin’s eyes twinkled. “If that’s what you want. Me to yourself, hm?”
Yoongi looked at Jimin. His delicate hands, firm thighs, lean torso, beaming grin, twinkling eyes, and thought, fuck yes. That was all he wanted.
“Yes,” Yoongi said. Jimin’s smile deepened at the low, serious tone in Yoongi’s voice. “That’s exactly what I want.”