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Jungkook realised, all too late, that leaning forward to accept a bottle of soju from Jimin perhaps wasn’t the smartest idea.

As he rocked forward on his knees to take the bottle, his body registered that he was completely off-kilter, and chose to topple over altogether. Jungkook face-planted the floor with what could be described as a disappointing – but sufficiently humiliating – tumble. He opened his mouth to explain himself in a roomful of people – and ended up tonguing the carpet.

Distantly, he heard Jimin’s breathless, hiccupping laugh echo, and flushed.

“Come on, leave the kid alone,” he heard Yoongi grumble, and felt a hand wrap around his bicep to pull him up. He was still bent in the middle, folded awkwardly so that part of his ass was stuck into the air. He realised belatedly that Jin was sat behind him, awarded with a view of Jungkook with his ass in the air – he’d been seated beside Jungkook when Taehyung had been struck with the brilliant idea to flop onto the dirty, stained floor and demand the others follow. They’d followed, all with a touch of reluctance, more aware than Taehyung that uni dorm floors had witnessed years of uni students drinking and smoking and throwing up.

Yoongi tugged, and Jungkook felt himself only slightly shift, raised up from the ground enough to meet Jimin’s curved, half-crescent eyes and knowing smile. He felt the arm around his bicep tighten, fingers digging in painfully, and finally heard a strangled noise escape Yoongi’s throat as he tried valiantly to rescue Jungkook from the fate he’d fallen into.

Jesus,” Yoongi cried out, sounding breathless, “How much do you weigh, Kook?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, directing his eyes to the floor in his shame. Jimin was still smiling like he knew someone.

“I haven’t weighed myself in a while. Do you really need to know?” he mumbled, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. Yoongi made a wounded sound, heaved some more, and finally gave up the losing battle within moments. Jungkook hit the floor with much more fervour, this time.

“Anyone else?” Yoongi asked, probably red-faced and panting. Namjoon was probably gazing at him starry-eyed, wanting to caress his tongue against Yoongi’s. Or something equally sickening bordering on romantic that confused the lot of them. They hadn’t been able to work out whether Namjoon’s feelings for Yoongi were purely animalistic – which, if that was the case, could be sorted with a quick, under the covers fuck – or of the heart-swelling kind, which would serve a lot trickier to resolve. Taehyung was brimming with enthusiasm about how they could get ridiculously involved in Namjoon’s love life. He’d been enthusing about Namjoon and Yoongi for as long as Jungkook could remember.

There was a tick of silence after Yoongi’s question, and then Namjoon was saying lightly – breezily, like it felt forced – “I can manage, I’m pretty sure I’m taller and weigh more, I –“

“That’s not how it works, Jin-hyung,” someone smoothly interrupted – it might have been Hoseok? Voices and tones were all melding together at this point for Jungkook, who had yet to resurface from his compromising position – and Jin huffed. Huffed. It was so cute and affronted Jungkook’s heart hurt. He wanted Jin to pick him up from the floor. Possibly let Jungkook sit in his lap. Maybe kiss his neck. It was a whole evening of possibilities.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jimin’s sly voice interceded – and something was up, something was definitely up, Jungkook had heard Jimin’s sly voice a million times before – “Jin-hyung works out. Right, hyung?”

“Yes!” Jin squawked, and then probably realised it wasn’t polite to admit to working out. (Jungkook didn’t mind. He’d seen a few shots of Jin at the gym. He’d swooned.) “I mean. I lift?”

“If you say so, hyung,” probably-Hoseok said. “Give it your best go.”

“It’s Jungkook, not a fragile object,” Jimin said, most likely paired with an eye-roll. They were gifted with his eye-rolls a lot when Hoseok was around. “I’m sure he won’t shatter upon impact.”

“I hope not,” Jungkook heard Jin mutter, thinking nobody could hear him. Jungkook smiled into the carpet, and almost gagged when he got his second taste of sour, unwashed carpet that night. He heard shifting – the sound of socked feet moving across carpet – and his heartbeat picked up, picturing Jin moving about around him, bracing himself to pick Jungkook up. “Okay,” Jin said, voice sounding louder in Jungkook’s ears – not that the sound of his blood roaring in his ears wasn’t loud enough. “Okay, I’ve got this.”

“Sure you do, hyung,” definitely-Taehyung quipped. “We believe in you.”

“You guys really are dragging this out,” Namjoon felt compelled to add, but there was no malice in his tone, so Jungkook relaxed. He could do this. He could sit, face to the floor, ass in the air, and let Jin pick him up from a compromising positions. Friends did that.

Right. Friends.

Jungkook stiffened when he felt a pair of wiry arms snake around his middle, and then tried to relax when he realised what it must have looked like to the others – stiff, unyielding Jungkook on the floor, unwilling to accept help graciously being offered to him – but found himself short-circuiting when Jin shifted, and his front gently nudged Jungkook’s ass. It had been the most fleeting of touches – Jungkook hadn’t even felt his dick – but for Jungkook, who’d been steadfastly ignoring all physical contact from Jin for fear that he’d get hard then and there, it was a lot to deal with all at once.

Jungkook buried his face into the carpet, and hoped no one had seen. His hopes were dashed when he heard Jimin snicker, and resolved to get himself through this, and kill Jimin after. Maybe tomorrow. When he could stand, and Jimin’s chances of overpowering him were slim.

Except Jin thought it necessary to lean forward – chin bumping Jungkook’s left shoulder blade – and whisper in Jungkook’s ear, close enough so his hair tickled Jungkook’s neck, “Hyung’s got you okay, Kook? Don’t worry. I’ll get you out of this.” Jungkook: 1) ached because Jin thought Jungkook needed reassurances from him, however false (because, really, Jin might have visited the gym a few times in the past, but Jungkook religiously went five times a week and had been stocking up on carbs recently) and 2) ached because Jin had referred to himself as ‘hyung’. It was almost like he knew Jungkook solidly watched porn of couples with age gaps, of couples where the boy getting fucked was getting fucked into submission, was being humiliated beyond belief, degraded. It was like he knew Jungkook only came hardest when he was imagining someone’s hand was around his throat, jerking him to an early finish, growling in his ear Be a good boy and come for hyung.

Then Jin put all his efforts towards lifting Jungkook back up, and all thoughts in Jungkook’s head went scrambled as Jungkook worked to push himself up from the floor – subsequently knocking his ass against Jin’s dick. And – yep, yep that was his dick, definitely his dick – not that Jungkook could claim to have accidentally ground against any number of dicks in the past; but he had enough experience to claim to know what it felt like to have a dick nestled between his ass, warm and thick and mouth-watering.

Jungkook stilled immediately, for one of two reasons: one, the obvious reason being that he’d accidentally ground against Jin’s dick and there was no coming back from this, no salvaging of the uneasy friendship that’d existed before; and two, because Jin definitely felt warm and thick and mouth-watering, and inebriated Jungkook had no control over the filthy thoughts that barraged his head, all at once. Grounding against that dick again came to mind. Sitting on Jin’s lap fully, so that he had his dick tucked between his ass cheeks, safe and warm and a prelude of what was to come. Then Jungkook had the mistake of picturing what it might be like to draw Jin’s dick into his mouth, sloppily suck at the tip of his dick, and it was all over for him.

He trembled.

Jimin finally spoke out in the silence that’d followed Jungkook’s accidental ass-dick bump – though it wasn’t to help Jungkook, but rather, condemn him.

“Things going okay, Jin? Not too hard for you?”

Jungkook wanted to press himself against the carpet and dissolve against it. Allow himself the escape of the century.

“Yeah, they’re fine,” Jin replied, though he sounded a little too forced to Jungkook. At least, Jungkook’s addled brain registered it as such. He lifted his head up, eyes bleary from staring at carpet for too long, and thought Does he – He likes … He does, doesn’t he? for all of five seconds before he was rocking back, putting a little more pressure against Jin’s dick this time. He heard Jin choke on air and smiled. It felt a lot like a reward.

“Jungkook,” Jin said, making no effort to move yet, “Jungkook-ah, Jungkookie – can you just … you know … can you, um –“

“I think what he’s trying to say is can you get up by yourself,” Yoongi put in witheringly. The reminder that all six of them were there – including Jin – to witness Jungkook grind back against Jin’s erection like a dumb, drooling idiot brought a hot flush to Jungkook. He didn’t hate the idea.

“Yeah,” Jin sounded relieved, and a part of Jungkook shrivelled up in disappointment, “Yeah, I’m trying to say that. Thanks, Yoongi.” He got a non-committal grunt. “So, Jungkookie –“

Jungkook was pressing his palms flat against the floor and pushing back up before Jin could say another word, guessing that this little rendezvous was over. His fun had been had. Now he wanted to go collapse against his bed and cry a little. He thought the others would let him, because he’d had far too much to drink and they’d pass it off as a side-effect of the drinking – all except Jimin.

Jungkook really, really hadn’t thought this through – because as he pushed himself back up and sat upright, he ended up sitting neatly in Jin’s lap. It was like all the tension that’d existed in the room before got sucked out, like an efficient vacuum. Taehyung howled, Jimin whooped, and Yoongi was fondly muttering Damn kids. Jungkook, was hanging his head as he wallowed in indescribable shame and self-loathing, wishing that he could conjure up an excuse believable enough that would allow him to flee to his room and shut the door securely behind himself. He sat there, thinking, while the others cried and whooped till their lungs were sore, thinking sorrowfully about how he’d never been good at improvising.

“Enjoying your seat, Kook?” Jimin howled, and Jungkook just – flopped back. Out of shame. Except he’d forgotten about the owner of the lap whom Jungkook had had the misfortune to fall back on, and grimaced when he heard Jin’s answering wheeze.

“Sorry hyung,” he mumbled. “I know I’m heavy.”

“You’re not heavy Jungkook,” Jin was quick to reassure – though Jungkook didn’t believe it, going by the breathless note in his voice – “You’re just. You’re kind of. Sat on me?”

“I’m sorry,” he babbled, feeling himself sink deeper and deeper into the pit of shame, with no visible way out. “Do you want me to – um, I can –“ he wriggled, trying to work his way out, and Jin groaned like he was in pain. Jungkook stilled immediately, wondering if he’d hurt him or if he’d unwittingly wriggled against Jin’s erection – which, if that was the case, Jungkook wanted to wriggle on him again. And again. And again, till Jin was gasping for air and Jungkook was all dizzy. Perhaps he wasn’t thinking straight.

He thought it was prudent to apologise, anyway.

“Sorry, hyung. I can – I can get off your lap if you want?”

“I don’t think he’s in any hurry, Kook,” Taehyung said with a smile in his voice – and when Jungkook looked over there he was, grinning like the devil – “I think he’s having a pretty good time actually.”

Jin’s arms tightened around his middle in response, reminding Jungkook that they were there in the first place. Before, they’d been so loosely circled around him, and now they were holding him in a vice-like grip, like Jin was almost afraid that if he let go, Jungkook would get hurt. Jungkook didn’t hate it.

“Taehyung,” Jin got out, sounding strained, “You can’t just – don’t – oh for fuck’s sake.” Jungkook was momentarily shocked by the flagrant use of the expletive when he’d only heard Jin swear twice before – both had had sheepish apologies tacked onto the end – and was even further surprised when Jin’s headed thudded onto his back, forehead pressed against his shoulder blades. They were ridiculously close now, and if Jungkook and his group of terrible, terrible friends didn’t know better, Jungkook would have ventured to say that they looked like a cosy couple, snuggled up against one another at a party.

If only, Jungkook mourned.

“Having a rough time there, Jinnie?” Jungkook was shocked to hear Hoseok ask, in a lilting tone laced with jest. “Are you having trouble getting Jungkook off?”

“Does everybody in this group speak in rhetorics?” Namjoon muttered, and Jungkook privately agreed. And then: “Do you need help, Jin-hyung? I can help you get Jungkook off if you like.”

Namjoon,” Jin practically wailed, though the full force of his voice was muffled by where his face was pressed into Jungkook’s back. “Namjoon, you’re not helping.”

“Maybe you’ll just have to stay there with Jungkook,” Jimin suggested. Jungkook didn’t even bother looking at him anymore when Taehyung’s crinkly-eyed devil-mouthed expression was right in front of him, and he knew he and Jimin would be looking identical. “For the whole party.”

“What a shame that would be,” Taehyung bemoaned, really upping the dramatics. “Jungkook on Jin’s lap for the whole party, forced to just sit there … and sit thereand sit –“

“Alright, I think that’s enough,” Yoongi announced, taking Jungkook by surprise. He’d mostly been a silent observer up until this point; it was easy to forget that he’d been there to lay witness to Jimin and Taehyung’s antics, too. “Jungkook, give me your hand.” Jungkook glanced up, saw the steely-set expression Yoongi had on, and didn’t bother even arguing. He clumsily reached for Yoongi’s hand and, with some fumbling, caught onto it. “Okay. Now pull yourself up as much as you can,” Yoongi ordered, and Jungkook found himself blindly nodding. Yoongi commanded such an authoritative air about him that there was no arguing with him. (Even Jimin and Taehyung agreed, if their hushed silence was anything to go by.)

Jungkook felt Yoongi’s hand jerk in his as he attempted to pull him up, immediately thought This isn’t going to work, Yoongi-hyung struggles pushing the shopping cart sometimes and knew he had to put some work into it, if he didn’t want to remain stranded in Jin’s lap forever (which, he did). He pushed himself  up, wobbling as he did so, and let Yoongi think that this was his achievement. Jungkook took a step forward – to, ironically, grab himself a glass of water and try to sober up – and ended seriously careening to one side.

Yoongi caught him, looped an arm around his shoulders and held onto him tightly. “Okay kid,” he said. “How about we go get you some water?”

There was immediate uproar.

But hyung it’s a party,” Hoseok wheedled, while Taehyung made whining, puppy sounds and Jimin began noisily saying,

“Hyung how do you expect us to not drink, we’re in our prime!”

They all quietened down when Yoongi shot them a dark look, still gripping onto Jungkook, who would have been swaying otherwise.

“You.” He stabbed a finger towards Hoseok. “This is all your fault. It wasn’t meant to be a party in the first place – don’t tell me otherwise, Namjoon specified on the event that it was a ‘gathering’!” Hoseok, who opened his mouth to dispute this, snapped this shut and looked sullen. “And you,” he seethed, turning his finger onto Jimin, who flinched. “I don’t care if you’re in your prime or not. Clearly, Jungkook has had too much to drink, and I don’t advise he drinks anymore. You can drink all you like!” he hastily said when Jimin opened his mouth, ever-argumentative. “But leave Jungkook out of this. The poor kid’s embarrassed himself enough.” Jungkook didn’t bother arguing, just let miserably let himself be hoisted up by Yoongi and began the trek towards Namjoon’s kitchen.

“What about me, hyung?” Taehyung asked. They turned, and he was batting his eyelashes at Yoongi. “Don’t I get a special mention?”

Yoongi stared at him, made a disbelieving sound in the back of his throat, and left, Jungkook hobbling alongside with him.

“Some people, Kook,” he muttered darkly, and Jungkook didn’t feel hard-pressed to ask him what he meant by that.

In the time it took for Yoongi to rescue Jungkook from Jimin and Taehyung’s clutches and deposit him in bed, Jungkook’s eyes were already heavy and he was nodding off. When Yoongi eased him into bed as gently as he could manage – which, for Yoongi, involved a lot of quietly muttered curses and laboured breathing – Jungkook was only half-conscious, feeling himself drifting into a state of catatonic sleeping.

When he woke, what felt like only mere moments later, his head felt like cotton wool and his mouth felt like sandpaper. It was unpleasant, and waking up took longer than it should have. Of course, hungover Jungkook hadn’t taken into account the night of drinking that’d happened before, so when he forced himself awake, it felt like clawing his way out of unconsciousness.

It was only when he could properly open his eyes – unpeeling his eyelids, one by one – that he registered that one: he’d been tucked into bed like a little kid, doted upon by adoring parents; and two, a body was tucked in alongside him, pale fingers clutching at the sheets. It was odd to think that Jungkook knew it was Yoongi snuggled in beside him with just a glimpse at his long, rounded fingertips and manicured nails. (Yoongi protested any rumours of his going to the nail salon with Jimin and Taehyung, but Jungkook was beginning to think that was all farce.)

“Hyung?” he tried, voice all raw and rough from sleep. He winced, his throat feeling no better than the rest of his mouth. “Hyung, are you awake?”

Gazing at Yoongi’s lifeless, expressionless face, he didn’t think that there was any hope of waking him up. Then Yoongi’s button nose was twitching, the dark eyelashes that fringed his eyes were fluttering, and Jungkook was gazing into Yoongi’s slanted, feline-like eyes. In sleep, he was so peaceful. Alert and awake, he was a little more threatening – or would have been, if Jungkook didn’t know he frequented the nail salon, slept with Namjoon’s Kumamon plushies at night, and let Jimin and Taehyung fiddle with his hair when the fancy took them.  

Jungkook smiled, and realised too late that smiling felt like the corners of his mouth were cracking. He smiled anyway.

“Hi hyung,” he whispered, rolled onto his side. “Did you sleep well?”

For a moment, Yoongi stared at him blankly, like Jungkook was being ridiculous for playing the part of a kid at a sleepover – laid on his side, gazing at Yoongi, whispering – and then something in his expression relaxed.

“Slept just fine,” he said, gruff, that drunk way of talking made even deeper by the night of sleep he’d just had. “How about you? How are you feeling?” He studied Jungkook, like there was something he was searching for, and it made Jungkook feel uneasy. He’d had a good night’s sleep – granted, he felt like his head was all swollen and heavy on his neck – but he didn’t think there was any real reason to worry. He could chase his hangover  away with cups of coffee.

“I’m fine,” he answered honestly, and now he was studying Yoongi’s face, searching for anything that might give away why Yoongi was speaking so carefully. “Why, what did I do? Kiss someone?”

Yoongi’s expression gave him pause.

“I didn’t kiss someone, did I?” he asked, concern creeping in. The only person he could feasibly think of kissing was Jin, and even then, he couldn’t imagine he’d been brave enough to kiss Jin. Not after he’d nursed an inkling of attraction into a full-blown, dorky crush on him all in six months. Maybe he’d been the homewrecker of the decade and kissed Jimin. Or Taehyung. Either would have the desired effect.

“You didn’t kiss someone,” Yoongi finally said, and Jungkook relaxed a little. But his tone was reluctant, so he didn’t dare breathe just yet. “You just … sat in Jin’s lap, that’s all.” Oh. “And you might have made him hard but nobody’s attesting to that just yet,” he added all in one breath, and Jungkook had to give himself a moment to catch up.

“I … gave Jin-hyung a hard-on?” he asked meekly. Yoongi grimaced.

“Don’t say it like that, kid.”

“How should I say it?” If Yoongi noticed the raise in pitch in Jungkook’s voice, he didn’t point it out. “That’s what you just told me.”

Yoongi’s expression underwent a series of emotions all at once. Jungkook watched them flicker through before Yoongi settled on pained.

“Shit, I don’t … Don’t say it all meek and mild, like you didn’t already know. Makes me feel all the worse that Jimin and Taehyung put you through that scheme.”

A beat passed.

“There was a scheme?”

Yoongi’s hands flew to his face as he closed his eyes and groaned.

“It’s really not helpful that you’re not remembering any of this, Kook,” he said, voice muffled, peeking at Jungkook through the gaps in his fingers. “I feel like I’m giving you a lot of unnecessary shocks here.”

“You kind of are!” Jungkook pointed out, and paused to take a breath. In, out. In, out. He was becoming hysterical. “It’s just that I … I  drank a lot last night, and –“

“I noticed,” Yoongi interrupted, prompting Jungkook to glower at him. “Sorry.”

“I drank a lot,” Jungkook continued, determined to not be deterred, “So when I woke up this morning I was hoping this bitch of a headache was the only problem that I’d have to deal with. I just don’t … remember anything,” he finished, a little desperately, scrabbling about in his memory.

Yoongi fell silent, and the two stared at one another for a minute or so before Yoongi finally supplied:

“Um, maybe don’t drink with Jimin and Taehyung then? And Hoseok?”

Hyung,” Jungkook whined, hoping to iterate what he meant in one word: that drinking with Jimin and Taehyung was inevitable when they were around, and if not inevitable, certainly awkward to avoid. Yoongi’s expression shifted, from pained to empathetic: he understood.

“Yeah, kid. I know. I’m sorry.”

They fell into silence again, and Jungkook, not knowing what to do after he’d supposedly sat in Jin’s lap and made him hard – he couldn’t call it an achievement, not when he’d been drunk out of his mind and it was apparently owing to Jimin and Taehyung’s meddling which he didn’t wholly appreciate – tucked his hand under his chin, and sighed. He thought he saw Yoongi twitch, as if to mirror the gesture, and it made him smile.

“At least we’re in this together, right hyung?”

“I didn’t want them to push you into his lap, believe me,” Yoongi was quick to protest. Evidently, he didn’t share Jungkook’s feeling of camaraderie. It looked like the guilt of being just a bystander was eating him alive. “It’s just” – he fought off a grimace, and his expression returned to normal –“It’s just that once Jimin and Taehyung get an idea in their head, it’s almost impossible to dislodge that idea. You know how invested they get in other people’s love lives.” Vaguely, Jungkook wondered if Yoongi was speaking from experience – his and Namjoon’s relationship had been hot topic up until a month ago, when Jungkook had confessed how he felt about Jin.

“Yeah.” Jungkook went for a smile, although it felt begrudging. “I guess we’re both sufferers of that, right hyung?”

“Yeah definitely,” Yoongi quickly agreed, till he realised what he’d said and looked horrified. “Uh, I mean –“

Fortunately he wasn’t given the opportunity to explain himself, as the door of their bedroom was being thrown open with such force it was battering into the wall and Namjoon (from another room) was hollering, “Don’t throw the doors open! How many times –“

“Morning all!” Jungkook heard Jimin chirp, and that was all the warning he was being given before a figure was barrelling onto the bed, and dive-bombing straight into Jungkook and Yoongi’s burrowed selves.

Yoongi swore loudly, while Jungkook scrambled to free his legs before they were being crushed by Jimin who, wasn’t heavy per-se, had thick thighs that were capable of trapping any man under him. (Jungkook really sympathised for Taehyung.)

Jungkook craned his head forward, and got a good look at Jimin, who appeared unfairly awake and clean given that it was early morning (Jungkook would hazard 8am-ish). He smelled airy and fragrant, his hair had been washed and was on its way to drying soft and fluffy, and he was wearing one of Taehyung’s cream coloured shirts that dangled down to mid-thigh on Jimin. He’d buffed out his eyeliner today for some unfathomable reason, and his mouth had been touched up with lip tint. He was, in short, looking gorgeously refreshed and everything Jungkook was not (even if he’d been given a refractory period of ten minutes to wake up).

“How are we all doing this morning?” Jimin trilled, once he was nicely settled in a space between Jungkook and Yoongi’s legs. Jungkook stared at him, unsure if he was being sincerely oblivious, or if this was all an elaborate act. Luckily, Yoongi had him covered.

“How do you think we’re doing?” Yoongi huffed, from his side of the bed. It was too awkward for Jungkook to turn his head to look at him, so he didn’t bother. “Poor Kook’s embarrassed as hell, and I empathise. Why are you so cheerful?”

Jimin grinned at him, all tongue and teeth. “Because,” he said slowly, enunciating every word, “I happen to know that Jungkook doesn’t need to be embarrassed. Taehyung and I have got it all sorted.”

Jungkook was tempted to sit up straight at that, attention piqued, but he didn’t attempt it just yet. He wanted proof before he got elevated, all for no reason.

Jimin cocked his head at him, playfully – it was one of his cute, quirky habits that took Jungkook no convincing as to how Taehyung had fallen in love with him – and, guessing that Jungkook’s scepticism, said, “You want me to show you, don’t you?” Jungkook chose to shrug, deliberately vague, and Jimin laughed. “Ah, Jungkookie. You’re too cute. I think Yoongi-hyung’s rubbing off on you.”

“I am not,” Yoongi retorted, from where he was still embedded in blankets and pillows. But Jimin wasn’t paying attention – he was twisting around and hollering,

“Tae! Babe! Come in here!”

Nobody answered for a moment, and then Hoseok was yelling back,

“Do you have to wake up the whole apartment with your mindless yelling?”

“It’s part of my charm, hyung!” Jimin cried back, grinning. He was still twisted in half, head angled towards the door, making Jungkook wonder if he was going to stay that way, almost frozen, till Taehyung made an appearance. He was left to wonder as Taehyung appeared only a moment later – shuffling in half-awake, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand. Where Jimin was a morning person – it was sickening, really – Taehyung preferred to sleep until the better half of the day was over, when he could emerge as the creature of the night that he was.

“Tae, Tae!” Jimin was re-energised by his presence, jostling both Jungkook and Yoongi as he bounced on the bed. “Tae, tell them what we found!” Taehyung, unfortunately for whatever scheme Jimin had cooked up, wasn’t nearly as awake, as he yawned, gave his eye another rub for good measure, and blinked at Jimin.

“Whass’ that?”

Jimin turned back around and explained, “I’ll show you. Tae’s a little bit sleepy right now.”

“You don’t say,” Yoongi quipped dryly.

The evidence in question turned out to be a text conversation, between Jimin and Jin. Jungkook’s mouth, by some miracle, dried up some more just from reading that it was Jin Jimin had been talking to, at precisely six am. He skimmed the conversation, too impatient for answers, and got the main gist of it from one text:

I think I like him??

Jungkook didn’t bother to read the rest, because Jimin’s answering text was a nonsensical jumble of emojis, some crude, some just plain bizarre (Jungkook didn’t know what a lion had to do in any of this). He merely sat there, and tried to process it all.

Jimin, who’d been watching him for a reaction, said, “Sooo?

Jungkook looked up, having forgotten that Jimin was watching him, and at such a close proximity. Taehyung shuffled forward, and his knees gave out the moment they touched the bed. He fell onto the bed with an absence of grace. For a moment, he was the centre of attention, as Yoongi snorted unsympathetically and Jimin cooed at him, signalling for him to come closer. Once Taehyung was settled in Jimin’s arms, head flopping limply about on his shoulder, Jimin’s eyes swivelled back to Jungkook.

“What do you think?” he asked, while absentmindedly rubbing at Taehyung’s back. “Of the text?” he added, like it wasn’t already obvious. Although he’d probably (correctly) guessed that Jungkook would have found himself a way to worm out of the question if Jimin hadn’t specified.

“What am I meant to think?” he asked, trying to disguise how he was screaming on the inside, heart doing flips in his chest out of pure elation. Jin liked him, Jin liked him. “Did you edit that photo online yourself?”

Jimin laughed aloud, and then his expression fell when he realised Jungkook was being serious.

“Oh, Kook,” he said softly. “Do you really not believe that Jin-hyung likes you?”

Jungkook opted for a shrug, because it seemed more aloof that way, even if he was internally battling with the more elated, naïve part of himself that was already making a song and dance about the notion that Jin liked him.

“Kook, you know that’s not true,” Taehyung said, groggily, lifting his head up from Jimin’s shoulder enough to fix him with a sincere, unflinching expression. He and Jimin were so comfortable around one another it hurt to witness. “Hyung’s had the biggest, dorkiest crush on you since … what, five months ago?”

Jungkook’s heart thudded painfully, daring to believe.

“When was it exactly, Tae?” Jimin asked, oblivious to how Jungkook was gawping a bit now.

“Five months sounds about right,” Taehyung affirmed, more caught up in conferring with Jimin. “It was a month after you guys had met – he stopped off by the café and wouldn’t stop gushing about how talented you are, how original your artwork is, how far you’re going to get in life.”

Yoongi quietly swore, like the sailor he was. When Jungkook turned to look at him – somewhat resembling a person now that he’d shed some of the blankets that’d been tightly wrapped around him – he explained, “I had a rough idea that Jin liked you. I didn’t realise it went back that far, though.”

Jimin grinned at him. “Perks of meddling, hyung,” he sang-song, and Yoongi grumbled unintelligibly in response. “He wouldn’t admit that he had a crush on you until we’d prodded and prodded at him.”

“How long did that take?” Yoongi asked.

Taehyung thought for a moment. Whether the finger tapping on the chin was an act or not, Jungkook wasn’t sure. No one could really be sure with Jimin and Taehyung, who went through life like it was all one big comedic act. “Five minutes? Give or take?”

“Suddenly, I know why everyone drinks so much around you two,” Yoongi spoke out, and Jimin swatted at him, the trace of a smile on his face. Taehyung faux-scowled. Jungkook watched this exchange with astonishment, distracted from the chanting in his head Jin liked him, Jin liked him long enough to revel in the comedic act Jimin and Taehyung posed. Everything just felt a lot lighter when they were around.

“But anyway,” Jimin said, switching to a more focused, driven figure, “Back to Jungkook and Jin.”

“Back to business,” Taehyung said with what could be presumed to be a business-like nod of his head.

“What are we going to do from here?”

There was a pause.

“What do you mean, we?” Yoongi asked incredulously. “If Jungkook is interested – if, I see you beaming Tae – then we leave this to him. This isn’t any of our business.”

The whining that followed was only to be expected. Jimin was first to speak, complaining and loudly pointing that,

“ – our duty as best friends is to secure any relationships Kook might have in the future! What kind of friends would we be if we didn’t?” He looked genuinely scandalised, and Taehyung supported him with a firm nod, expression set. Jungkook imagined what it would have been like if he and Jin were in Jimin and Taehyung’s position before he could stop himself, picturing himself sleepily leaning into Jin, there to support his every word. His heart spasmed, wanting that scene of domesticity so badly.

Jimin’s argument was apparently so convincing and indisputable that Yoongi didn’t say another word – that, or he saw the intimidating front Jimin and Taehyung posed, and didn’t bother to engage in what would perhaps derail into an argument over Jungkook and Jin’s relationship – which Jungkook preferred, seeing as he was there with them. But it left Jungkook to deal with Jimin and Taehyung himself as they rounded on him, eagerness stretching out to bat clumsily at him.

“So. How do you want to do this?” Jimin asked Jungkook, his directness throwing Jungkook a little.

“Maybe start by asking the kid how he feels,” Yoongi muttered, by the statement was lost on Jimin, whose eyes were gleaming with the hundreds of possibilities of how Jungkook could confess to Jin.

“Ooh!” Taehyung shot up, jostling the bed with his keenness, and all attention went to him. “I know! How about we stage it at the café? I’m thinking we have smooth music playing, a candlelit table, a snack-themed menu at the ready … Jungkook could be wearing that dark navy blue shirt Jin-hyung really likes, sitting at the table when he arrives, get up to greet him – “

“And then hug him and confess!” Jimin finished, clapping his hands together with a sense of finality that made Jungkook shiver. “We all have to be there for it.”

“Right, right,” Taehyung was gabbling, mouth working a mile a minute. “Half of us could work on Jungkook, half of us on Jin –“

“ – but then what would we tell Jin so it stays a surprise?”

“How about we tell him …”

They chattered on, while Jungkook watched them with a sense of growing dread, feeling like he’d rather burrow back into bed and remain there, all responsibilities evaded. He glanced over at Yoongi, hoping to find an ally, and saw that he’d fallen back asleep; ash-grey fringe fanning his eyes. He sighed, and wished he had the capability to fall asleep whenever, like Yoongi.

Fortunately for Jungkook, he found another ally that morning – in the form of Jung Hoseok.

In the midst of Jimin and Taehyung’s excited discussion, Jungkook, who was making a deliberate effort to not pay attention to their discussion, heard the tell-tale creak of the floor caving under somebody’s weight, and saw Hoseok stroll in, casual as ever, toothbrush lolling about in his mouth.

“Hey, Kook,” he began, and then stopped when he saw there was a party of four on the bed; two of whom had their heads close together, devising absurd schemes. Jungkook watched his forehead crease as he battled to understand what possible reason there could be for four of the seven of them being bunched together all on one bed. “What … What are Tweedledum and Tweedledee doing here?” he asked, nodding towards Jimin and Taehyung, who took no notice. Jungkook didn’t know how to answer but luckily, Hoseok was adding before he could even answer, “By the way, Jungkook, Jin’s at the door. Just so you know.”

Before Jungkook could control himself, a low, delicious thrill went through him at the thought that Jin was here. For him. Then he remembered himself, and the anxious, self-conscious feelings he’d been staving off came flooding in.

“He’s here for you,” Hoseok iterated, likely thinking that Jungkook hadn’t caught on to what he was saying – when the reality was he was very, very much aware.

“Okay,” Jungkook felt compelled to say – to let Hoseok know he’d heard him – though he didn’t know how he was going to tackle speaking to Jin so soon after what had happened last night now that he’d been gifted with the knowledge that Jin liked him, too. Before, it’d felt like a fantasy he kept to himself; now those fantasies felt tangible, like Jin would cuddle with Jungkook before bed if he asked. It was almost laughable to think about and not something Jungkook was wholly on board with, yet.

He’d failed to notice that the chattering among Jimin and Taehyung had fallen to a hush, and they were watching him keenly. It was only when Taehyung whispered (a touch morosely) to Jimin “I guess the candlelit dinner is out of question, then,” that Jungkook was made aware they were watching all of this, and it was a great incentive to get him out of bed. He got out of bed a touch quicker than normal, eager to escape all the scrutiny.

As he walked to the front door, heart like a hummingbird’s, he hoped that interacting with Jin would go a bit better without the watchful eyes of the others; but all that fell out of the window when he rounded the corner and almost tripped over himself seeing how good Jin looked. He – he was still in his sleepshirt and boxers he’d borrowed from Namjoon, and Jin was working to make him feel severely inadequate, wearing a cream coloured cashmere turtleneck and slim-fitting jeans, blond hair swept in a middle parting. His lips and cheeks were flushed from the cold outside, but his eyes were bright.

Jungkook almost tripped, but recovered last minute and was thankful for it. He didn’t think he’d have been able to get over the burning shame, and that would have shot any interaction with Jin to pieces.

Jungkook’s tongue felt all wrangled in his mouth, and thankfully, Jin took initiative. “Hi, Kook,” he said, sounding just as shy as Jungkook felt. “How, uh, how was your sleep?”

“Take a guess,” Jungkook said with a smile, gesturing at the whole of him. “I didn’t really prepare for this, um. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, I think you look really good,” Jin admitted, and then flushed. “Um.”

“You look really good too,” Jungkook said before he could even draw breath and lose the courage to say so. “I like your turtleneck.”

“Thanks, I got it for way cheaper than it actually looks.” Jin smiled, and Jungkook melted. He could be speaking gibberish and Jungkook would still listen, just as intently. “You wouldn’t be able to tell, would you?”

“No,” Jungkook said too quickly. “I mean.”

“I appreciate your honesty,” Jin said, with a little shrug and smile. “Can I, uh –“ he gestured at the rest of the apartment, and Jungkook remembered his cheeks flushed from the cold and scrambled to let him in. Jin angled himself to move past, but ended up brushing against Jungkook anyway. Jungkook bit back the stammering apology that threatened to spill out, and followed Jin to the sofa. The sofa he distantly remembered sitting in front of last night. A flash, a glimpse of a memory came to mind.

They sat down together, Jungkook stiffer than most. It certainly felt more forced than the easy interactions they’d had in the past. Jungkook wondered if all of their future interactions were going to feel like this, all for the price of admitting that they liked one another. He wondered, really wondered, if he wanted that. (Not dating Jin would hurt, but he’d choose his friendship over anything.)

“About last night,” Jin began, alluding to what Jungkook had been anticipating – he wasn’t prepared enough to hide the flush that broke out across his face, though. He waited, tersely, for either a harried confession to spill out, or for Jin to tell him I’m sorry, I like you I really do – but I can’t do this and supply him with a reason that Jungkook had known all along. That seemed more plausible. Jungkook could even think of a reason himself – that he was too awkward, for instance. How was he supposed to get into a relationship if he still struggled with every day, social interaction? The answer was: he didn’t. He sat there, tense and miserable, and waited for Jin to get on with it. It was becoming harder and harder to look at him in the eye.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a little laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “This isn’t how I wanted this to happen.” Jungkook shrivelled a little at that, realising that Jin was going to go for the latter and fob him off. It felt awful, but it was what he’d known all along. Maybe it was better, this way. Jungkook could preserve his friendship with Jin and then live with the knowledge that he wasn’t good enough for someone he’d pined after for six months.

Yeah. Better this way.

“Hyung, can I say something?” Jungkook asked in a fit of spontaneity, thinking that, if Jin was going to reject him, he at least wanted to get a word out. That way when he retold the story to Jimin and Taehyung and whatever else noisy fuckers were interested, he could say he’d had the courage to tell Jin how he felt, how he properly felt. Jin nodded, looking a little dazed.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“I wanted to say this before you rejected me,” Jungkook admitted, and watched as Jin’s expression morphed to one of horror. He was right, then. “I just wanted to say, um. That I really appreciate how kind you’ve been to me the past six months? We didn’t, uh, we didn’t have the best first meeting.” Jimin and Taehyung had shoved them towards one another in the café and demanded they get to know one another. Jungkook, who’d been staring awestruck at Jin for the past five minutes, floundered. “Jimin and Tae can be a bit …” He paused, thinking for a word that wasn’t offensive, quickly thought Fuck it, and went for the word that’d appeared in his head in the first place. “Brash,” he said, and thought he might have heard a stifled gasp. It didn’t really matter if they were eavesdropping. This way, Jungkook wouldn’t have to traipse back and tell them about how Jin had rejected him.

“I think they’re fun,” Jin said gently, taking Jungkook by surprise. “I don’t think any of my old friends would shove me towards a cute guy.”

Jungkook took a breath. “Well, yeah –“ he began, still running his spiel about how much he liked Jin and how grateful he was for Jin’s kindness when he finally clocked what Jin had said. “Wait, cute?”

Jin, who’d been watching him with bemusement across his face, smiled so honestly that Jungkook had to look away. “Yeah, cute. You’re very cute Jungkookie. I think it’s cuter that you didn’t realise I was here to confess to you.”

“You’re here to confess?” Jungkook asked, feeling faint, feeling himself flounder. “You – wait – you actually like me? Like me like me?”

“I like you like you,” Jin confirmed solemnly, but the corners of his eyes were crinkled. “Did you think otherwise?”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered from Jin’s face to the floor, staring at the carpet as he quickly revaluated his life decisions, all in one go. “I thought you here to reject me,” he said quietly. “Because of – of how I acted last night.”

“You remember that?”

“Yoongi-hyung filled me in,” he told him mournfully, and didn’t expect the laugh that came out of Jin’s mouth. He glanced up, and saw that Jin had clapped a hand over his mouth, and was gazing at Jungkook with wide, wide eyes. The kind that’d been caught doing something disobedient. Jungkook was just puzzled.

“I’m sorry Kookie,” he said once he’d peeled his hand away, “It’s just – you’re so cute. How could I not like you?”

“Well, um –“

“You’re cute and thoughtful and funnier than you know,” Jin told him without an ounce of embarrassment. “I’ve liked you for something like five months now – or at least, Namjoon tells me it’s been five months. I just remember you coming out of college to meet me, wearing a mask and ripped jeans and one of your white shirts out of many, and you – you just looked so pretty and happy to see me, that I realised maybe there was something to me picking you up from college every day and feeding you after.”

Jungkook flushed. “I thought that was just you being a good friend,” he said lowly. “The others feed me too, you know.”

“Maybe,” Jin shrugged. “But I don’t think they want to feed you and cuddle and kiss you after like I do.”

Somebody nearby gasped, and their attention snapped in the direction of the gasping eavesdropper. It’d come from Yoongi’s room, where Jungkook had resurfaced from to greet Jin, and Jungkook just knew it had something to do with Jimin and Taehyung.


Jungkook, for the first time that day, smiled at him, and automatically stood up to go – till he glanced down at his attire, and bit his lip. “Um. I may need to go for a change of clothes first, though,” he said, fighting down the feelings of mortification that rose up inside of him. Jin nodded, but he was making an odd face with how his jaw stretched this way and that – till Jungkook realised he was trying, desperately, not to laugh. He felt himself go crimson, gave Jin a funny jerk of his head, and shuffled off to change his clothes.

The bedroom was mysteriously empty when Jungkook popped inside to change, but it was a small mercy he didn’t question, hurriedly shucking off his sleep shirt and reappearing with a simple white tee paired with ripped, washed out jeans. He felt Jin’s eyes trail down the length of his body and back up again, a little shameless in his admiration of what Jungkook was wearing.  

“You – it…” Jin flailed for a moment, before deciding on: “It looks good, Kook.”

Jungkook felt his ears go pink, but scrambled to cover himself by quipping, “So, are we going out? It sounds like the best idea I’ve heard in a long time.” He and Jin both ignored the gasp that followed, covered up with loud whispering and shushing. It was only Jin was helping Jungkook into his coat, all gentlemanly – Jungkook was fighting off a giddy smile and the rising euphoria he felt at what he’d entertained as a fantasy beforehand had turned into reality – that somebody yelled out,

“I hope you have a good time on your date!” This was followed by viciously hissed shushing and muttered demands to be quiet. Jungkook paused; peering in the direction of the yell in the hopes that he might see who was to blame – till Jin slid a hand down to the small of his back, distracting him, and nudged him out of the door with a smile.

The apartment was eerily quiet when they returned from their date, hours later – the sky had darkened outside and the air had cooled to a chill, powerful enough to chase them indoors. Jungkook had let himself be chased reluctantly, wanting to revel still in the thrill of being out with Jin like this. Laughably, their date was no different than any of the other times they’d gone out to eat – the only exception being that Jungkook nestled closer to Jin than normal, and snatched his hand in the latter half of their date once he’d summoned up the courage to.

Jungkook felt in a dreamlike state as he opened the door and led Jin inside, their hands still intertwined. He looked over the apartment in one, large sweep, careful to check that they weren’t any eavesdroppers still lingering about or jokers ready to pounce up at them. Jungkook knew for a fact Jin happened to be easily startled, and he wasn’t sure he was well-versed enough in post-date etiquette to deal with a frightened Jin.

“Seems too quiet, doesn’t it?” Jin said conversationally as he toed off his shoes, insisting on still holding hands with Jungkook. If the thought made Jungkook clutch at his hand tighter, neither of them said anything about it.

“I feel like someone’s going to jump out at us any moment,” Jungkook admitted, and felt Jin’s hand temporarily tighten in his.

“I hope not. It’d really kill the mood.” Jungkook privately agreed, though the idea that there’d been a mood in the first place made his breath hitch. There’d definitely been a headier, more apprehensive mood between the two of them, and although he wasn’t adverse to it, he just wanted to get the damn thing over with and kiss Jin. But how, a voice in his head whispered. It was maddening.

“You want me to get us some coffee?” Jin asked as his hand slipped from Jungkook’s. Jungkook hadn’t registered what he’d said, had just felt his hand disappear and whirled around, alarmed. When he saw Jin was signalling to go towards the kitchen, he felt stupid and flushed.

“That’d be nice. Thanks.” He stood there awkwardly, thinking about how his date had to be more unusual than most in the sense that Jin was easily navigating around his kitchen, knowing exactly where to look for cups of coffee. It was better this way, he thought. No awkward fumbling, no hesitations … Jin had carved out a place in Jungkook’s home way before they’d even gone on this date. Jungkook watched him bustle about the kitchen, feeling a dull, familiar ache in his heart, as he worried about how, exactly, he was going to kiss Jin and have it go smoothly. He turned it over in his mind as Jin slid an empty mug under the coffee machine neatly, and pressed a button that made the machine gargle as it ground the beans into the mug.

He thought about it long and hard as he hesitantly crossed the threshold into the kitchen, stepped towards Jin while his back was still turned, and decided in a fit of spontaneity that didn’t suit him, that he was going to kiss him when he turned around. He didn’t account for Jin to swing around in a wide arc, still gripping a mug in his hand as he opened his mouth and said,

“Jungkook, can you – mmph.” Jungkook, in spite of how wide Jin had turned and in spite of the mug he was holding, panicked and went to kiss him anyway, meeting Jin in a kiss that knocked his teeth against Jin’s. Jungkook reared back, panicked that this had gone so wrong, and ended up knocking the mug cleanly out of Jin’s hand. There was one beat of horrified silence before the mug fell, and then it hit the ground and shattered into pieces. Jungkook was left to stare at Jin, mortified that this had gone so horribly wrong, and turned to flee –

Except Jin was wrapping a hand around his wrist, keeping him anchored.

“Kook.” Jin’s voice was firm. It gave Jungkook pause. “Kook, don’t run away.”

“I’m not running away,” Jungkook replied, sounding sullen. “I’m fleeing. There’s a difference.”



Jin outright laughed at that, eyes bright.

“You are something, Jeon Jungkook,” he mused. He gave Jungkook’s arm another tug, so Jungkook fell forward and ended up being pressed up against him. He glanced down, flustered, and felt a finger tip his chin up so he was looking straight at Jin. “It’s just not great for my self-confidence when I kiss someone, and they run away – or flee, or whatever.”

“I almost bit your lip,” Jungkook pointed out in a mumble. Jin’s mouth quirked.

“That’s why people practise.” His hands went to Jungkook’s waist, flexing his fingers there. He leaned in so close their noses were nudging one another and his breath fanned Jungkook’s face when he said, “Can I kiss you again, Kook?”

“As long as you don’t bite my lip,” Jungkook said, and barely had time to breath before Jin was capturing his mouth in a kiss. It felt surreal, kissing Jin in the kitchen like this. It wasn’t at the top of his fantasies list, but – as Jin expertly nibbled on his lower lip and asked for Jungkook to open his mouth so he could slip his tongue in – it was certainly rivalling his favourites. Jin’s hands were pleasant on his waist, tight and possessive and when he dug his fingers in, Jungkook made a noise into his mouth – but they weren’t where Jungkook wanted them, not by a long shot. When they broke away from the kiss for air, Jungkook took advantage to ask Jin, as politely as he could manage, if he could please move his hands from his waist.

“Oh?” Jin prompted, in a voice that made Jungkook shiver, “Where do you want my hands, then?”

Jungkook coloured, but felt himself tip his head back when Jin kissed at his neck, sucking at his skin in a toe-curling  gesture. “On – on my ass,” he said, voice coming out more breathy than he intended, really enjoying how talented Jin was with his mouth, flattening his tongue against Jungkook’s neck.

“On your ass?” Jin asked with a touch of surprise, making Jungkook falter, hands loosening where they’d bunched up Jin’s shirt. “I’m teasing, Kook. You can have my hands on your ass if you want.” His tone was so light and lilting, so teasing that Jungkook whined. He couldn’t understand why Jin was so calm when they were kissing, when Jungkook felt hot all over, skin burning to the touch. “Easy,” Jin murmured, nibbling at the spot underneath Jungkook’s jaw bone. Jungkook went limp instantaneously, and tried not to boil over when Jin laughed, delighted. “I didn’t know you were so easy,” he said, and Jungkook made a wounded sound. “Not like that,” he corrected. “Just so … compliant.”

Jungkook’s mind felt like wet concrete from Jin’s lavish attention, impossible to wade through and damn near debilitating. He almost gave himself a headache wading through it all in an attempt to become more aware of his surroundings. When he came to – feeling weighed down, head heavy – he was aware enough that Jin’s hands were on his ass now, groping at the flesh there. His hands paired with his mouth made Jungkook want to sink to the floor and get on all fours.

“It suits you,” Jin said, cutting through the concrete, voice clear in Jungkook’s ears. “Cute and obedient… I mean, you’ve always been a good boy.”

Jungkook’s dick stirred with interest at Jin’s words, and he couldn’t help but roll back against Jin’s hands, gasping as he did so. “Please call me a good boy again,” he muttered, burying his face into Jin’s neck. “I, I like being a good boy.”

“You are a good boy.” Jin reiterated his point by grabbing a particularly large handful of Jungkook’s ass, and Jungkook pushed against him, keening. “The best boy.” Jungkook lifted his head up, then, to kiss Jin again and savour the taste of his mouth. Jin accepted, kissing him at a maddeningly slow pace when all Jungkook wanted to do was kiss him in a heated fashion, sucking at his lip and stroking at his tongue. He almost whined, but Jin was distracting him by breaking away from the kiss and murmuring into his mouth, “Do you want to take this elsewhere?”

Jungkook, who’d been lulled into a state where his eyes had slipped shut and he was concentrating on willing himself to not get too hard too quickly, opened his eyes and blinked at him.  

“Only if you want to take this elsewhere,” Jin hastened to add; that calm, collected demeanour momentarily slipping away to reveal a more vulnerable, self-conscious side to him. Somehow, that reassured Jungkook down more than anything else could have.

“Yeah, I want to take this elsewhere.” He swallowed just thinking about it. “Uh, we could try Yoongi’s room?”

“Yoongi’s room, huh?” Jin asked, eyes twinkling. His voice was full of implications. As Jungkook opened his mouth to defend himself – Yoongi’s room was practical his room now, given the number of times he’d stayed over and burrowed in alongside Yoongi, none of it was a deliberate attempt to have sex on Yoongi’s bed and aggravate him – Jin shut him up with a kiss, which proved very effective, as Jungkook melted into him and relished in the taste of his mouth. “It’s fine, Kook,” he said into his mouth, “I know you don’t have a malicious bone in your body.”

“Apart from when it comes to Jimin and Tae,” Jungkook muttered, and earned himself another laugh from Jin that sent a warmth blossoming through his chest. Jin laced their fingers together, a gesture that was quickly becoming familiar to Jungkook, and led him to Yoongi’s room. The journey took no time at all, blurred and thrumming with an undercurrent of excitement, and before Jungkook could even think to apologise from the mess this morning – the blankets had been carelessly strewn across the bed, the sheets imprinted with Yoongi’s tell-tale figure – Jin was backing him up against the bed, straddling him as they fell down. Jungkook went with the flow of things easily enough, but his heart almost beat out of his chest when he felt Jin’s hands brushing against his chest.

“This okay?” Jin asked, hands deliciously warm. Jungkook didn’t think to tell him that he’d fantasised about having Jin’s hands on his nipples at least dozens of times before, just jerkily nodded and gave Jin all the control. He didn’t anticipate for Jin to ruck his shirt up and lightly stroke at his nipple with a fingertip so his entire body jerked with electricity – but then, there were a lot of things Jungkook didn’t know about Jin, preferences included. Jin did it again, and Jungkook’s body jerked again, panting as he experienced another jolt of electricity.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Jin said quietly as he worked Jungkook’s nipple over with a finger and Jungkook whimpered and felt himself leak in his underwear, “You’re really sensitive here. Am I right?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, too distracted by how wet he was getting from the slightest of touches – but he whimpered when he heard Jin repeat the question, this time in a voice more steely than the last.

“Good boys answer questions, don’t they?” Jin asked in a deceptively soft tone. Jungkook’s dick drooled. He dug the edge of his nail into Jungkook’s nipple, and Jungkook almost thrashed on the bed. Something about Jin’s steely tone and unforgiving nail made Jungkook feel like he’d been submerged in water, and everything said echoed in his ears, distorted.

“I like it, I really like it,” he babbled, with being a good boy still in mind, “Hyung, can you please – please –“ Jin flicked at his nipple and Jungkook moaned, brokenly.

“What? What do you want?” Jin asked, and if Jungkook wasn’t mistaken he was teasing him. Toying with him. Playing with his nipples till his underwear was soaked and Jungkook was mindless with pleasure. Then Jin leaned in and asked in a low voice, “What do you want hyung to give you?” and Jungkook whimpered.

“I want,” he took a breath because he was already becoming delirious – here was Jin, straddling his lap and playing with his nipples so nicely, and it was like every fantasy he’d ever had was happening, in the flush – “I want hyung to touch my dick. Please.”

“Are we that needy?” Jin cooed, but let go of Jungkook’s nipples in favour of getting off his lap so he had better access to Jungkook’s jeans. Just as he began unbuttoning his jeans and Jungkook began lifting his hips up to help him – he paused, leaving Jungkook to hover with his hips mid-air. “You want me to do this, right Kook?” he asked, that glimmer of vulnerability coming through again. “I mean.” He gnawed on his lower lip, tempting Jungkook to bite it – but he couldn’t, not when Jin was experiencing such hesitancy. “I want to do stuff with you, I – God, I’ve wanted to do stuff with you for a long time,” he admitted with a laugh and Jungkook’s mind momentarily short-circuited thinking about that. “I just want to know you’re okay with what I want to do to you.”

Jungkook carefully, cautiously, lowered his hips down and looked at Jin. “What do you want to do to me?”

Jin looked like he was biting into his lower lip so hard he might break blood, so Jungkook quietly reminded him to let go, which he did. “It’s, it’s a lot,” he admitted, and Jungkook’s dick throbbed. “What I want to do to you. But I don’t want to scare you off. We’re on our first date, anyway.”

Guessing that Jin was grappling with what Jungkook had been grappling with for months, he went for a joke and testily said, “If you’ll look at my internet history I think you’ll find it’s pretty frightening. For some people anyway.”

Jin looked at him then, one long, hard look that Jungkook almost wanted to squirm against, but didn’t. Finally he said, “What are you into, Kook?”

“Is this an interrogation?” Jungkook mumbled, sheepish, prompting Jin to flush and amend,

“Only tell me if you want. It’d just … be helpful to know. Before we get into all of this.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, but leaned in to kiss Jin, one more time before they got into the heavy stuff. “I like being the submissive one,” he said, and felt a twinge of embarrassment at how it sounded aloud. “I like being dominated, in a lot of aspects.” Jin’s hand, whether it was subconscious or not, had crept down and wrapped itself around Jungkook’s thigh; a reassuring warmth. Jungkook leaned into it. “I’ve watched porn before” – he broke off, burning with embarrassment now, but saw Jin was watching him intently, no sign of judgement on his face, so he continued – “I’ve watched porn of guys being tied up, gagged, used - used in all kinds of ways, and I ... I’m into that.” Jin was still watching him carefully. “Um. I’d really like if you could - if you want - to dominate me,” he finished lamely, wetting his dry mouth with his tongue.

“I think I want that too,” Jin admitted, and surged up to kiss Jungkook. A startled sound was ripped from Jungkook’s throat at the unexpected movement, but he got into it easy enough; having found that Jin was an excellent kisser who was capable of putting him at ease. When Jin squeezed his thigh with his hand as they kissed, Jungkook knew for definite that it wasn’t accidental.

“Can I - can I blow you,” Jungkook asked, breathless. “I really - really want your dick in my mouth.”

“Fuck, okay,” Jin said shakily; and it was music to Jungkook’s ears, to hear how affected he sounded. “Oh my God. Kook, you’ve gotta give a guy more warning next time.”

Jungkook apologised, but it was very half-hearted and he peeked at Jin through his lashes as he did it.

“You brat,” Jin said, but it didn’t sound very convincing. “We should - we should have a safeword before we do things, right?”

Jungkook realised that he was right, but attached onto the more interesting part of that sentence. “How do you know about safewords?” he asked, under the assumption that Jin didn’t watch nearly as filthy porn as he did. Jin gave an idle shrug; evidently secretly smug that he’d got something right.

“Who says I haven’t looked at your internet history?” he joked, and then his expression went serious. “What safeword do you want?”

“How about...” Jungkook thought, as he subtly inched towards the edge of the bed and slid off of it. “Peaches?”

“Sounds good,” Jin said agreeably. “Though I hope you know I’ll never be able to look at peaches the same way.” He smiled, and Jungkook returned it, wracked with nervous excitement at the thought that he’d finally be able to blow Jin. “How do you want to do this -” Jin began saying, but stopped once he realised that Jungkook was sliding off the bed, turning around, and settling onto his knees. “Oh wow. Okay.”

“I’ve thought about this a lot,” Jungkook meekly admitted, as Jin rearranged himself on bed so his thighs had fallen open, inviting, for Jungkook to settle in between. “I’ve wanted to blow you for the longest time.”

Kook,” Jin admonished, but there was a strangled quality to his voice. “Kook you can’t just say that. You didn’t even know how long I’ve - I’ve wanted you to blow me.” His chest heaved, as Jungkook made quick work of unbuttoning his jeans and taking them off. With his jeans off he could see the faint swell of Jin’s cock in his pants and it made his mouth water - but he’d thought about being on his knees, like this, and mouthing over the outline of Jin’s cock. So he did. Jin sucked in a harsh breath from up above, but his legs spread marginally wider, giving Jungkook more room to work.

He leaned in, and was overcome with how musky and heady Jin smelled; the faint scent of arousal. He couldn’t prolong it any further, and pressed his mouth to the outline of his cock, making a small, contented noise. He opened his mouth, and it was only natural that he tongued at the outline, too, tasting mostly the fabric of Jin’s underwear but also catching on to the dark stains that were beginning to appear. The more Jungkook mouthed at him, the darker the stains got; till he could taste Jin’s pre-come in his mouth and it made him whimper, wanting more. Mouthing at him wasn’t comparable to taking the actual thing in his mouth, he was sure, but it was rewarding to hear Jin’s harsh, grated breath in his ears as he fought to keep himself composed.

It only spurred Jungkook on, to lap at what he was sure was the head of Jin’s cock poking against the fabric, and when he heard Jin’s strangled,

“God, Kook,” he smiled, feeling like he was beginning to get the responses he wanted. His smile must have been too obvious or too plain smug, as Jungkook was torturously dragging his mouth along the swelling length of his dick when he was suddenly hit with a mouthful of his clothed cock. His eyes watered and he panted as he stretched his jaw open wider and tried to accommodate more of him. “There we go,” Jin cooed, and though working to get a reaction out of him had been good, this was much better. “Do you like that? Mouth full of my cock? You certainly seemed needy for it.” Jungkook glanced up, parts-thrown by Jin’s dirty talk, parts-overwhelmed with arousal. “There’s my pretty boy,” Jin said, and even reached down to brush a thumb along Jungkook’s cheekbone. It was oddly intimate, given that he’d just forced his hips upwards, into Jungkook’s mouth, but Jungkook didn’t question it, eyes fluttering shut at the gentle touch.

Then Jin was nudging him away as he tucked his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, cock springing free. Jungkook swallowed as he took all of it in - a pretty, long curving cock that was flushed red and drooling pre-come down the sides.

“What are you waiting for?” Jin nudged. “You wanted to blow me, didn’t you?” He spread his legs open some more, leaned back on the bed and smiled at him, a malicious smile that made Jungkook’s head spin. “Go on, baby. Blow me.”

Jungkook’s experience with giving blowjobs was next to none, and his knowledge of what to do extended to what he’d seen in porn - which he was aware was mainly fantasy, overdone, the result of popping a Viagra or two - but it seemed his enthusiasm made up for it, as he stretched upwards to fit the head of Jin’s cock into his mouth, and suckled on it eagerly. Jin didn’t make a sound - Jungkook thought that might have been deliberate, so he was encouraged to work harder and Jin could taunt him throughout it - but Jungkook felt him shift into a better position where he could cant his hips upward, just.

Jungkook felt his dick bump further into his mouth and whined, forcing his jaw open to fit more of him. As he quickly discovered, giving blowjobs was a feat effortlessly managed in porn - with none of the issues addressed. Jungkook opened his jaw wider to greedily take more of Jin and found that his teeth were bared, so fought to cover his teeth with his lips, and then got preoccupied by the actual dick in his mouth resting on his tongue. The cycle repeated itself.

But Jungkook found, for all of the struggling and messy coordination - the saliva was building up in his mouth to the point where he was drooling around Jin’s dick, messy and just that little bit humiliating - he really enjoyed the sensation of having a dick with his mouth. As he became more accustomed to it, he experimented with flattening his tongue against the underside of Jin’s cock, and got rewarded with a low groan from Jin. He hadn’t been able to look up at Jin just yet - as much of a turn on as it would have been to see Jin laying there, eyes shut and mouth open in bliss - but he attuned himself to all of Jin’s noises, and worked to draw a whole host of them out of him.

Jungkook didn’t have the skill to do all sorts of things with his tongue, and ended up bobbing his head up and down as he slurped at Jin’s dick, revelling at the hard dick in his mouth and the low, quiet noises it drew from Jin.

“Such a good boy,” Jin sighed, voice tight, and Jungkook’s mind blanked. He felt his own dick throb between his legs, demanding attention, but couldn’t easily reach a hand down while he sucked at Jin’s cock. He had to choose between giving himself release or giving Jin release; and the decision was obvious. He took Jin’s dick all the way out of his mouth, gave the tip a kittenish lip, and then dove back down again. “My best boy,” Jin murmured, caught in the bliss, unknowingly egging Jungkook on as he picked up the pace, working at it till his knees hurt and his jaw ached.

It only took him a few more minutes of sloppy, uncoordinating sucking before he felt Jin’s body drawing in tight, like a bowstring, and heard Jin’s gabbled,

“Oh, Kook, fuck, I’m - I - I’m gonna come, oh -”

Till Jin was spilling down his throat and Jungkook was stilling, cheeks hollowed around him, savouring the hot seep of come into his mouth. He waited till Jin’s dick was done pulsing, began to soften in his mouth, and then he was drawing it out of his mouth as best as he could, swallowing the remnants of Jin’s come. He looked up at Jin and saw him gripping at the blankets, white-knuckled, a gorgeous flush scattered across his cheekbones. He was ethereal, and it almost distracted Jungkook from his own need.

But then Jin was opening his eyes, dopily and unfairly cute, smiling at Jungkook and saying, “Such a good boy, Kook,” and it reminded Jungkook of how much he wanted.

He thought for one, horrifying moment that Jin had forgotten about him when Jin was preoccupied with tucking his softened dick back into his underwear; but his worry vanished when Jin ran a hand through his hair, wearing an expression of adoration on his face, and saying in a voice that made Jungkook squirm,

“Do you want a reward for being a good boy?”

He nodded, maybe over-eagerly - but he couldn’t care less, not when Jin was reaching down and pulling him up, setting him in his lap and pulling him into a kiss. Jungkook didn’t realise he’d been rocking his hips down till Jin pulled away to kiss at his neck and joked, “I know I’m not old, but my recovery period isn’t that good, Kook, give me some time.”

“Oh, um -” Jungkook ceased rocking immediately, in spite of how much he was aching and how badly he wanted Jin’s dick in him. “I’m sorry hyung, I just, just really want you to fuck me, I can’t -” he’d dissolved into babbling and Jin cut him off with a brief kiss, murmuring,

“It’s okay, hyung’s got you.” Jungkook keened, and it took all of his willpower to not rock against Jin again when his dick was right there. “You want me to finish what we started?” he asked, hands skimming over Jungkook’s ass. There was too much fabric in the way, so Jungkook began hastily unbuttoning his jeans till Jin laughed, and did it for him. “Such a needy baby,” he said, while Jungkook sat back so he could pull his jeans off easily enough, leaving him in his shirt and boxers. “Such a pretty, needy baby all in my lap. I’m so lucky.” He tugged at Jungkook’s shirt, hinting, and Jungkook lifted his arms and let him pull his shirt off. The cool air hit him all at once and he shivered - but was hit with a flare of heat when Jin fitted his mouth over Jungkook’s nipple. He wriggled, the stimulation almost too much; but Jin fit his hand over his hip and held him there, making Jungkook whine, dick pulsing.

“Be good and stay still,” Jin ordered, as Jungkook stared at him, eyes glassy and mouth agawp. “Hyung just wants to play with his pretty baby’s nipples, okay?”

“But hyung, I, I -” Jungkook wriggled and Jin made a disapproving sound in his throat. “I can’t, it’s too much, I need, need hyung to fuck me, I can’t -” he broke off because his eyes were filling with tears and his throat felt choked up. Jin took Jungkook’s mouth out of his nipple and, as quietly and gently as possible, asked Jungkook for the safeword.

“P - peaches,” Jungkook hiccuped.

“Good boy,” Jin praised. “So smart. Do you want to use it?”

Jungkook shook his head. It was too much, too overwhelming, but in a good way. He was beginning to feel all floaty.

“Maybe we should have implemented the lights system, too,” Jin pondered quietly, and then added: “Light, Kook?”

“Green,” Jungkook said without hesitation, not thinking about how it would look if he knew all about safewords the traffic light system. He looked at Jin and saw his expression soften.

“Okay,” he said quietly, and drew Jungkook’s nipple back into his mouth, nipping at it till Jungkook sobbed. “Stay still,” he ordered, after he’d poked at Jungkook’s nipple with his tongue and Jungkook had kicked out involuntarily, pleasure seeping through his core. “Stay still and hyung will reward you.”

“But hyung I - I can’t, it’s hard, it, it’s a lot -” Jungkook cried out, becoming incoherent, clutching at Jin’s shoulders. What he felt but couldn’t put into words, was that his dick was painfully hard in his pants and he was leaking everywhere; that Jin’s mouth on his nipple was inconceivably good and he thought he might come, if this carried on.

Luckily Jin graciously said then, “Come if you need to,” and it only took a few more jabs with his tongue before Jungkook was going taut on his lap and coming with a whine, harder than he ever had before. He clutched at Jin as he rode out his orgasm on Jin’s thigh, aftershocks crashing down like powerful waves. He clutched at him and waited till it was all over, trembling when it was done. Jin was there to pepper kisses along his collarbones and face and neck, muttering about how good he’d been, how beautiful, how Jin had wanted to give him everything there and then. Jungkook quaked, and waited till he felt steady enough before he thanked Jin.

Jin’s nose scrunched up. “Why are you thanking me? You don’t need to thank me. You were amazing.”

“You made me come harder than I ever have,” Jungkook admitted, and kissed Jin before he could say anything else on that matter, feeling him huff out of laughter into his mouth.

“Yeah, and you just fulfilled every fantasy I’ve ever had,” Jin threw back, soothing his hands up and down Jungkook’s bare back. “So thank you.

Jungkook’s whole face creased up as he mused, “This is becoming more and more competitive.”

“You’re right,” Jin conceded. “I think I can arguably say that I have the best boy, though.”

Jungkook squirmed in his lap as his dick, painful though it was, attempted to get hard again. There was something about that nickname. “Maybe,” he said quietly; not wanting to let on that his dick was swelling up again. He was hoping Jin wouldn’t look down - but he was squirming too much, making funny expressions, and all of it baffled Jin, till he looked down and saw the state Jungkook was in.

“Oh,” he realised. “Oh.

Jungkook blushed. “I’m sorry, it’s just - you called me your best boy and I, I really like that, I can’t always control -”

He fell silent when Jin put a hand up, commanding. “Don’t apologise for being sensitive, Kook,” he admonished. “It’s kind of a blessing. Especially when you got me hard from writhing in my lap. Do you want to -” he faltered off, and Jungkook caught onto what he was saying. Jin’s dick in him?

Please,” he whined.

“Okay, okay. Let me just -” Jin leaned over, reaching for the bedside table, and brought out a small bottle of lube, seeming to pause and look around the room. “Do you have condoms?” he asked, and Jungkook felt his entire body go aflame.

“Second drawer,” he mumbled, and watched Jin lean over again, catch the second drawer with his long fingers, and retrieve a packet of condoms. Jin didn’t say a word, though Jungkook flushed thinking about how it must have looked. All thoughts following that train of thought fell out of his head when Jin tugged gently at his boxers and Jungkook raised his hips, helping him to pull off his boxers. He was soaked, and he flushed just looking at his dick, chubbing up again. Jin wrapped his hand around his dick and gave him an experimental stroke, almost making Jungkook fall over.

Hyung,” he said, and Jin’s eyes sparkled.

Jungkook,” he echoed, smiling, tightening his grip around Jungkook’s dick. It was a little vicious, and it only made Jungkook harder. His breath caught when Jin’s attention went to the lube, as he dribbled it over his middle finger and reached around to press against Jungkook’s hole.

“This okay?” he asked, looking into Jungkook’s eyes. Jungkook was tempted to not answer - to push back against Jin’s finger and welcome the glorious stretch as it slipped inside - but Jin was looking at him so honestly, so beautifully and caring, that he couldn’t not answer. Though when he did, it was with a touch of impatience.

“Yes, hyung, it’s fine. Now please. Please fuck me.”

“Bossy,” Jin muttered, but obliged, pressing his finger inside. It went in altogether easily - Jungkook fingered himself a lot in the shower - so Jin added a second finger and watched it go in without complaint. Jungkook, who’d been fighting to keep his eyes open and watch Jin while he fingered him, found that he couldn’t fight it any longer when Jin observed, “So pretty like this, Kook.”

He was four fingers in before Jungkook even realised, lost in the bliss of Jin’s long fingers inside of him, and when Jin crooked his fingers and very acutely rubbed against Jungkook’s prostate, Jungkook felt sharp pleasure shoot up his spine and he involuntarily moaned into the silence.

“Hyung please,” he whined, feeling like he was being toyed with here, “Please put your dick inside me, I -”

All he heard was a shakily, unintelligible mutter, and the sound of a condom packet being torn open. It all fell into place when he felt the tip of Jin’s dick rub against his hole and he arched, pushing against him, wanting his cock inside for once and for all. Jin pushed in, tears springing to Jungkook’s eyes as he was hit with the stretch of Jin’s dick being guided inside of him, reminding himself to breath. Once Jin had pushed inside to the hilt Jungkook opened his eyes, and saw how pretty and pink Jin was from all the exertion.

He couldn’t resist ducking down to kiss Jin, giving an experimental roll of his hips while he had Jin preoccupied with his mouth, and felt him stutter. It was all the encouragement he needed from there, as he, mind numb with pleasure and delirious, quickly picked up the pace and began riding Jin. Jin’s hands flew to his waist, gripping tightly, and it only urged Jungkook on, beginning to feel the ache in his thighs as he picked himself up and dropped back down.

“Hyung,” he finally gasped out, breaking out into a sweat and hot, burning hot, “It’s too much, I can’t -”

Jin got the message and eased Jungkook onto his back. All the warning he got was Jin interlacing their fingers together before he was being fucked into at a brutal pace, unrelenting and aggressive. It was delicious, and when Jin rubbed up against Jungkook’s prostate with his dick Jungkook moaned like a pornstar, made un self-conscious by how good he felt. He wrapped his legs around Jin’s waist and egged him on with the heels of his feet, back arching off the bed.

Jungkook felt himself climbing towards a second orgasm at an embarrassingly quick pace, but felt Jin was too, as his thrusts lost their rhythm and Jin began to drive into Jungkook as deep as he could manage, angling it so Jungkook’s prostate was getting bumped every time. If there was anything he could pride himself on that night - it was being able to make Jin come just by throwing his head back, baring his neck, and crying out,

“I love your dick in me, hyung.”

That was the tipping point for Jin, it seemed, as Jin groaned Jungkook’s name and came into the condom, almost teasing Jungkook with the way he could feel Jin’s hot come, but not properly feel it. Jungkook shifted on the bed, orgasm ebbing away from him and still desperate for release, and Jin took the cue, wrapping a hand around Jungkook’s dick and jerking him off, quickly. Jungkook fell apart at the feel of Jin’s calloused hand around him, clenching around Jin as he came. It was evidently too much for Jin, who quietly groaned, “Kook, you’re killing me,” and tried to take his cock out.

Jungkook panted, catching his breath, and they fell into silence. When Jin leaned in to kiss his nose and murmur he was going to get a cloth, Jungkook whimpered; already feeling his absence. It got worse when Jin did take his dick out, and his hole fluttered around him, feeling empty. He missed feeling full.

“Jungkook,” Jin warned, and Jungkook cut off all whimpering immediately. Jin smiled at him. “Good boy,” he said, and left to go get a cloth. Jungkook lay there in reflective silence, almost wishing he hadn’t revealed to Jin his penchant for being called a good boy; but it lasted all of a minute, as Jin was padding back in, cloth in hand, and began to dilligently clean Jungkook up. He was oversensitive, and squirmed, but Jin merely wrapped a hand around his thigh, holding him in place, and kept on cleaning. The fact that he had the confidence to do so made Jungkook feel hot all over.

“Hyung don’t go!” Jungkook cried, when Jin got up to discard of the cloth. Jin turned, by the doorway, and stared at him. Jungkook pulled his best pouting face, and Jin crumbled.

“Fine,” he said, tossing the cloth down. “Just remind me that that’s there otherwise the others are gonna get a nasty surprise when they get home. You want your shirt?” he asked, picking up Jungkook’s discarded shirt, and helping him into it at Jungkook’s nod.

Jungkook settled back, sated from his orgasm and comfortable in his shirt, and beamed at Jin. Jin kissed his mouth, then his forehead, and fell onto the bed beside him when Jungkook made grabby hands towards him, He made out that this was a horrible chore, but settled into his role of cuddling Jungkook suspiciously quickly, as he looped his arm around Jungkook’s middle and rested his head against Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook smiled to himself, privately giddy at the way things had gone, and dropped off to sleep.

They were rudely awoken an hour later, by a bloodcurdling scream that could only belong to Taehyung – going by the high pitch it reached – and Jungkook opened his eyes to Taehyung gazing down at a come-crusted cloth with an upturned mouth, being comforted by Jimin, who had his arms entangled around Taehyung, murmuring words of encouragement. They hardly spared Jungkook a glance as Jimin guided a rattled Taehyung outside.

“Do I even want to know?” Jin mumbled into the pillow with his eyes still shut, to which Jungkook replied, hoarse from sleep:

“I don’t think anyone does.”

He flopped back down, welcomed Jin’s arms snaking around him, and fell asleep almost immediately.