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Yoongi likes listening to music during sex. Seokjin figures it out relatively early on, after the fourth or so time that Yoongi 'accidentally' leaves one earbud in while making out, pouting when it inevitably falls out as Seokjin's fucking him.
So Seokjin decides, naturally, that the next spontaneous romantic gesture he makes should be a sex playlist.
He asks Namjoon what he thinks and—after choking on his soda and then laughing for a minute straight—he agrees that it would make for a good gift. He gives Seokjin a few pointers ("lyrics aren't as important as a good beat, hyung" and "if you find something with an actually well-executed key change, he might come just from that") before asking if he can add a few songs of his own.
"Sure!" Seokjin says eagerly. "I'll send you what I have so far."
Taehyung, who came in during the conversation, interrupts with, "Me too, hyung? I think it sounds cool!"
So Seokjin shrugs and shares the link to the playlist with all of them (except Yoongi, of course), and resigns himself to having to filter out a few pranks here and there.
He spends whatever free time he has Wednesday and Thursday doing so, rearranging songs here and there to improve the flow. It's always satisfying to hear one song transition smoothly into another, and Seokjin finds himself reacting more strongly than expected, heat curling in his stomach the first time he listens to it all the way through. He bites his lip as he wonders how Yoongi will react, whether he'll turn faintly pink the way he always does when he's aroused.
Seokjin gets his opportunity to see Friday night, when Yoongi comes home exhausted and tense from a long day of recording and re-recording. "I never want to listen to my own voice again," he groans, collapsing onto his side of the bed (really their beds pushed together with a mattress topper and king-sized sheets) face-first.
"Poor baby," Seokjin says sympathetically, setting aside his guitar to pet Yoongi's hair. "Want me to play something for you?"
"Mm," Yoongi says. "Were you practicing?"
"Yeah, but I'm tired now," Seokjin replies easily, not ready yet to admit that he'd been playing through sappy 2000s love songs for a very particular reason. "Hand me my phone?"
Yoongi groans and throws out a hand blindly, flailing until he brushes against the phone on Seokjin's pillow. Seokjin laughs at him unapologetically, and Yoongi's pout intensifies, half-throwing the phone into Seokjin's lap. "What are you going to play me?"
Seokjin purses his lips thoughtfully. "Depends—what kind of relaxation are you in the mood for?"
Yoongi flips over onto his back and peers suspiciously at Seokjin, who raises an eyebrow in response. "Are you asking me if I want to fuck?"
"Do you?" Seokjin asks.
"...yeah," Yoongi says, and opens his arms greedily.
Seokjin laughs, bending down to kiss the pout off of Yoongi's mouth until it turns into a smile. "Hold on, I put something together for you. You like listening to music during, right?"
Yoongi flushes lightly and looks away. "I guess," he says, but he squirms up against Seokjin briefly before his hips settle back against the mattress.
"Uh-huh," Seokjin says dryly. He thumbs his phone open, the screen still showing the playlist from when he was working on it the night before. "It's still a work in progress," he says. "But I think you'll like it."
The blush on Yoongi's cheeks deepens a little as the beat of the first song kicks in, and he bites his lip. "You made me a sex playlist," he says, sounding a little breathless, and oh, Seokjin loves being proven right. "Hyung, that's—that's kind of sleazy, isn't it?"
"Is it?" Seokjin hums, and rubs over Yoongi's half-hard dick with his palm. "I think you're into it."
Yoongi makes a choked noise. "How did you even—when did you—"
"A couple days ago," Seokjin replies, deftly flicking Yoongi's jeans open before sliding them down his slim hips to his knees. He licks his own palm and wraps it around Yoongi's dick. "I asked the others to add suggestions, too."
Yoongi groans, only half at the way Seokjin tightens his grip briefly. "Half the songs on here are going to be awful," he complains, his hips jerking up into Seokjin's hand. "Out of all of you, Namjoonie's the only one with any taste."
"Is that any way to talk to your hyung?" Seokjin mock-reprimands. "Your hyung who's very graciously relieving your stress right now?"
"You're the biggest cause of stress in my life," Yoongi grumbles without any heat. He pauses, then adds, "You and the brats."
Seokjin grins. "The brats did try to add a few joke songs, but don't worry. I vetted them all myself."
Yoongi reluctantly settles, and over the course of the next song goes pliant and relaxed, letting Seokjin tease and manhandle him without complaint. His eyes keep fluttering closed, mouth parted as he splits his attention between the music and Seokjin's touch.
Seokjin pushes a lubed finger into him at the same time as the beat drops in whatever song they're listening to—Seokjin has stopped paying attention, to be honest, but that's okay because Yoongi clearly has not—and Yoongi's breath catches audibly. "Oh," he breathes, and Seokjin smirks.
He finishes the rest of the prep without teasing, because Yoongi starts getting antsy, and Seokjin is impatient himself. When he pushes into Yoongi, both of them groan, and Seokjin leans down to press their foreheads together while he tries desperately not to immediately lose it.
It's then, both of them breathing heavily in the silent space between songs, that it happens.
The first chord plays, and Yoongi—whose mental catalogue of music is nearly encyclopedic in scale—frowns immediately in recognition. "What song is this?"
"Hm?" Seokjin asks absently. He's tuned out the music mostly by now, but he strains to listen for a moment and—oh. Oops.
"Is that—" Yoongi's brow furrows as he listens, and then he drops his head back onto the mattress with a groan. "Hyung. You are not rickrolling me during sex right now."
Seokjin's too busy dissolving into laughter to respond. "Not—" he finally manages, breathless with mirth. "Not intentionally? Jungkook added it this morning."
Yoongi kicks his feet a little, impatient. "I thought you said you got rid of all the jokes!"
"I missed one!" Seokjin reaches back and grabs Yoongi's shin to make him stop digging his heels in the small of his back. "I thought it was funny and was going to tell you about it, and then I forgot to take it out." He pets the side of Yoongi's thigh apologetically, and makes to pull out. "Here, I'll switch to the next song—"
"Don't you dare pull out," Yoongi snarls, clenching tight enough around Seokjin to knock the wind out of him. "I'm so close hyung, don't you dare—"
"Jesus, okay," Seokjin says, a little snide, a little awed. He'll never get over how pretty Yoongi looks when he's desperate. "If you really want to come to Rick Astley, that's fine, 's none of my business."
Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut tight. "I hate you."
"I'd never judge you for your kinks, Yoongi."
"Shut the fuck up, hyung," Yoongi groans. "Just—touch me, come on—"
Seokjin's shoulders are still shaking a little with laughter when he reaches between their bodies to stroke Yoongi's dick, slow and firm.
Yoongi hisses out a breath between his teeth. "Faster," he demands. Seokjin arches an eyebrow and Yoongi's next exhale comes out as a thin whine. "Please."
He bites down hard on Seokjin's shoulder when he comes, muffling the high, raw cry in his throat. Seokjin spots the indentations in the bathroom mirror when he's washing his face and complains, loudly.
"Revenge," Yoongi mumbles back, half-asleep already. "It's what you get for being an asshole."
He's all the way under, breaths deep and even, when Seokjin comes back to bed. "Hmph," Seokjin huffs, uncrossing his arms and tucking the blankets up around Yoongi's shoulders. "We'll talk about this in the morning." He kisses Yoongi's (unfurrowed, he notes with pride) brow and leaves to make sure the rest of the members have eaten dinner, closing the door gently behind him.
In the morning, after Seokjin's pinned Yoongi to the shower wall and sucked a nasty hickey high on his throat in revenge ("Hyung, the makeup noonas are gonna kill me!" "That's what you get for being a brat, Yoongi-yah."), they sit down and eat breakfast together, kicking lazily at each other's feet as they scroll through social media. One by one, the others filter in, snagging their portions of the cold breakfast from where Seokjin left them on the kitchen counter.
Jungkook is the last one in, still yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes even though they have to leave in thirty minutes. He grabs his breakfast and mumbles a greeting Yoongi and Seokjin's way, before making to leave.
Seokjin narrows his eyes. "Yah, Jungkook-ah," he calls.
Jungkook freezes, eyes going wide enough that Seokjin knows he knows exactly why he's in trouble. "What's up, hyung?" he asks innocently, voice just a little too high.
There's a sharp pain in Seokjin's ankle, and he turns to see Yoongi shake his head nearly imperceptibly. There's a glint of mischief in his eyes, a smile playing around his lips, and Seokjin finds his interest piqued.
Seokjin looks back at Jungkook. "You left your face wash in my bathroom again," he says. "You should go get it instead of using Jimin's and complaining about the smell for an hour."
Jungkook relaxes, confused relief clear on his face (really, this kid, his poker face is awful). "Sure, hyung," he says obediently, rushing out of the room. "I'll, uh—I'll just go do that now!"
Seokjin looks expectantly at Yoongi. "Well?"
"If I had to suffer through that," Yoongi says, "I at least want some entertainment out of it. I say you leave the song in, and don't tell anyone."
A sly grin spreads over Seokjin's face, slow and delighted. "Yoongi-yah," he says. "That's so mean! I love it."
"Jungkook will know, though," Yoongi says thoughtfully.
Seokjin's grin goes sharp. "Don't worry, Yoongi. I can handle Jungkookie just fine. Now let's talk about how we want to play this..."
They decide on making a copy sans Rick Astley for their own benefit ("You were enjoying it up until that part," Seokjin says slyly, and Yoongi huffs but doesn't deny it), while keeping the original intact for practical purposes. It's this latter one that Seokjin is revising the order of, rearranging a couple of songs here and there, when Hoseok comes into the room. He shuts the door behind him, his eyes dark with intent when Seokjin meets them. Stifling both the rush of heat in his stomach and the snicker that threatens to escape him, Seokjin spins in his chair to face him properly. "Hoseok-ah," he says mildly, "did you need something?"
"Yoongi-hyung's busy," Hoseok replies, and Seokjin bites his lip. "He told me to come see you instead. Working on something?"
Seokjin hums. "Nothing important. Just, you know—" He hits play on his computer, and smiles when the beat kicks in.
"Ooh, Jiyoon-noona," Hoseok croons, draping himself over the back of Seokjin's chair. "Strong choice for an opening! Is this the sex playlist?"
"Mmhmm," Seokjin says innocently. "What do you think?"
Hoseok drops his chin onto Seokjin's shoulder. "Are you looking for feedback?"
Seokjin bites his lip around a smile. "You know how much I love constructive criticism."
"Hmm," Hoseok muses, lips brushing the corner of Seokjin's jaw before trailing down his throat. "I should probably experience it in the environment it was designed for, then, shouldn't I?"
Seokjin breaks, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughs. "Hoseok-ah," he says, "just get the lube already."
Hoseok is in a mood, Seokjin realizes when he shoves Seokjin none too gently onto the bed and flips him onto his stomach. Seokjin raises his eyebrows at the headboard and allows it: first, because these kinds of moods tend to end with him satisfied, oversensitized, and sore all over in the best way; second, because he knows he's the one really holding all the cards, here.
He likes it, too, because a Hoseok that's feeling possessive is also usually twice as attentive. He takes Seokjin's hips in a firm, gentle hold and eats him out thoroughly, then pins him with a forearm on his lower back while he opens him up with his fingers. He's just sliding into Seokjin with a choked gasp when the song before The Song begins, and Seokjin bites his lip, hard, to keep from making noise. It wouldn't do to spoil the surprise by breaking the silence with laughter.
"You're so tense, hyung," Hoseok murmurs against Seokjin's back, which normally would really do it for him, but— "You want it bad, huh?"
Seokjin's whole body shivers with suppressed giggles. "Ah," he says shakily. "Mm-hmm. It's good, Hobi, keep—keep going."
Hoseok presses his forehead against Seokjin's shoulder and pulls out halfway, then slams back in, making Seokjin's back arch with a sharp cry. He almost forgets all about the prank when Hoseok repeats the movement, scraping his teeth over the back of Seokjin's neck. Seokjin moans and drops to his elbows, letting Hoseok hold his hips up for him to keep the angle just right, and it's as if everything else goes quiet—
And then the drums kick in, and Seokjin bursts into laughter.
"What—" Hoseok stills, and then smacks Seokjin on the shoulder. "I can't believe you! Is nothing sacred in this house?"
"Nope," Seokjin responds, tears springing to his eyes with the force of his laughter. "Especially not sex, you know that."
"Ugh," Hoseok groans, and Seokjin can hear the edge of hysteria creeping into his voice. "And I thought the time Jimin replaced my lube with hair gel was bad. Was this Yoongi's idea?"
Seokjin grins into the sheets. "It was a team effort. So? Where's my constructive criticism?"
Hoseok squawks, smacking Seokjin again. "Your constructive criticism is that you're lucky I'm too horny to kill both of you!"
"You're so dramatic," Seokjin snorts. "Are you going to finish fucking me or not?"
"I'm going to turn this damn playlist off, is what I'm going to do," Hoseok mutters, pulling out of Seokjin and reaching for his phone at the edge of the bed.
"Hey, the rest of the songs are good!" Seokjin protests.
Hoseok huffs. "I don't believe you. Besides," he adds, before Seokjin can complain further, "I like being able to hear you."
Seokjin falters. "Oh," he says, a little breathless.
"Yeah, oh," Hoseok says nonsensically, tossing the phone haphazardly onto the floor before dragging Seokjin back toward him by the hips. "Let's see how loud I can make you be, hm?"
This time, Seokjin's determined not to laugh first. He's an actor, he can keep a straight face if he wants to!
At least that's what he tells Yoongi, who snorts at him before turning back to his computer.
"Really!" Seokjin insists. "What, you don't believe me?"
"Hyung," Yoongi says dryly, "you can barely tell a joke without laughing before the punchline."
Seokjin pouts. "You have no faith in me," he sniffs. "I'm going to be the perfect picture of deadpan, just you wait."
Yoongi rolls his eyes. "I'll believe it when I see it. Now you should go if you want to get to Namjoonie today."
"There's no spontaneity in this relationship anymore," Seokjin sighs, but he gets up off the couch obediently.
He finds Namjoon in his studio, thumping his head repeatedly against the desk in frustration. "Uh-oh," Seokjin says, trying not to laugh. "You look like you're ready to take a break."
Namjoon groans, spinning around in his chair to face Seokjin. "I can't," he says, "I've gotta get this done before—"
"Namjoon-ah," Seokjin interrupts, letting a little steel creep into his voice.
"...okay," Namjoon says softly, and Seokjin smiles, reaches over to close the laptop, and takes off Namjoon's glasses before kissing him slow and firm. He's trying to figure out how to suggest it when Namjoon says, unprompted, "Hey, uh—I never got to listen to the playlist you made. Do you..."
Seokjin almost loses his composure, but manages to keep his face impassive. "Sure, Joonie," he says, and starts the music before dropping smoothly to his knees.
He doesn't let his expression give him away, hands steady where they hold Namjoon's hips down. It's easy enough to focus on the carpet digging into his knees, the weight of Namjoon in his mouth, instead of the music, and he passes through the beginning of the playlist easily that way.
When he hears the telltale stretch of silence before The Song, Seokjin stifles any outward reaction, but opens his eyes halfway to look up at Namjoon from under his eyelashes.
Namjoon has his head tipped back, full lower lip sucked between his teeth. He so lost in it that he barely even reacts when Seokjin slows down and pulls back to mouth at his dick, slow and wet, just whines pleadingly in the back of his throat. Seokjin almost feels bad.
The beat kicks in, and Namjoon, whose mental musical catalogue nearly matches Yoongi's...still doesn't react. Seokjin blinks, but keeps his face unchanging as he retreats to bite at Namjoon's thighs, jerking Namjoon off lazily at the same time. Maybe it'll just take a moment for him to notice.
But after the chorus hits and Namjoon barely twitches, it's clear he's too far gone to pay any attention, and Seokjin—
Bursts into incredulous laughter, dropping his head against Namjoon's hip as he shakes.
Namjoon stirs. "What? Hyung, why are you—" A pause, and then finally, a disgusted, "Oh, hyung, why?"
"You didn't even notice!" Seokjin cackles, almost losing his balance from how hard he's laughing. He sags against the side of Namjoon's desk. "I can't believe I'm so good that you didn't even notice you were being rickrolled!"
Namjoon rolls his eyes. "Yeah, you can."
"You're right, I can," Seokjin agrees, still giggling. Namjoon meets his eyes, and slowly, his face splits on a grin as well.
"You're such a dick, hyung," he says, shoving Seokjin in the shoulder.
"I know, I know," Seokjin placates, grinning up at Namjoon fondly. "Come back here and let me get you off."
Namjoon pouts. "Maybe I shouldn't, after that," he huffs, but obediently spreads his legs for Seokjin to fit himself between again. "I refuse to listen to this a second longer, though," Namjoon adds, aggressively hitting the keyboard so the next songs in the mix plays.
Seokjin's shoulders are shaking with laughter again when he takes Namjoon back into his mouth.
"Feeling better, Joon-ah?" Seokjin asks afterward, sitting relaxed and satisfied in Namjoon's lap.
"Yeah," Namjoon sighs, nuzzling against the side of Seokjin's face gratefully. "'m hungry though."
Reluctantly, Seokjin slides off the chair and stands, holding a hand out to help Namjoon up as well. "Yoongi said Sejin-hyung was bringing food up soon, so we should probably head back now if we want to get any."
Namjoon frowns slightly. "I should finish this first..." he says hesitantly.
"Do it tomorrow," Seokjin coaxes. "Come on, you're not going to get anything good done when you're tired and hungry anyway."
Namjoon hesitates, and then smiles. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, okay, you're right. Let's go home?"
After dinner, Seokjin gets Namjoon off one more time, pinning him against the kitchen counter and jerking him off while Namjoon tries not to moan too loudly. It gets Namjoon relaxed and sleepy enough to curl up against Seokjin's side on the couch, sweet and pliant, while they watch a movie. Halfway through, Jimin comes in and lies down with his head in Namjoon's lap, and by the time the credits roll, both of them are asleep.
Yoongi comes home from the studio at one-thirty, finds them still tucked up against each other, and he smiles, tension melting from his shoulders, soft and perfect and lovely. "Room for one more?" he asks in an undertone, so he doesn't wake the others up.
Seokjin smiles back, stretching out the arm that Namjoon isn't resting on, and Yoongi curls up on his lap easily, resting his head on Seokjin's shoulder.
Jimin starts laughing even before Seokjin does. "I should have known you were up to something!" he says, smacking Seokjin in the shoulder. "You're never this quiet!"
"Oh it wasn't easy," Seokjin says, his face splitting into a grin. "But worth it."
"You're the worst," Jimin complains, but the wonderful thing about him—one of Seokjin's very favorite things about Jimin—is that he's laughing at Seokjin's stupid prank even harder than Seokjin himself. He's stopped riding Seokjin completely, too busy covering his beaming face, eyes scrunched up with delight.
"You're cute," Seokjin replies, and Jimin's breath hitches audibly. "You like hyung's jokes, don't you?"
Jimin shakes his head immediately. "I don't," he says, and gasps when Seokjin raises his eyebrows and holds his hips just a little more firmly. "You're—ah—not funny at all, hyung—"
Seokjin smirks. "You're still laughing, baby," he points out, thrusting upward once, teasingly.
He doesn't expect the way Jimin chokes on his next breath, letting out a wounded noise as his hands tighten on Seokjin's shoulders.
"Oh," Seokjin says, then slowly starts to smile. "Sensitive, huh?"
"If you'd just—ha—let me—aha ha—ah—stop laughing—" Jimin whines, shivery with sensitivity and clumsy with amusement.
Seokjin grins, and in one swift movement, flips them over. Jimin lands on his back with a choked gasp, legs coming up automatically around Seokjin's waist. "Jiminie," Seokjin croons, "you look so cute when you laugh."
Jimin whimpers through his teeth and comes, and Seokjin laughs hard enough for tears to spring from the corners of his eyes. The song has switched over without him noticing, too caught up in the way Jimin shivers with the aftershocks of his orgasm, eyes scrunching up with a smile before he punches Seokjin in the arm. "Hyung, I hate you, you know that?"
"You love me," Seokjin teases, "and you think I'm hilarious. Do you want me to pull out?"
Jimin sighs, put-upon. "No," he says, and then moans gratifyingly loud when Seokjin pulls his hips closer and gets back to work.
"Oh, I love this song!" Taehyung says, lifting his head from where it was resting on Seokjin's hip.
"That's...not the reaction I was expecting," Seokjin says slowly. Then he catches the amused glint in Taehyung's eye as he hums along to the opening and snorts, shaking his head. "I should've known I can never get the best of you."
Taehyung grins up at him, slowly pumping Seokjin's dick with his hand. "It's 'cause I'm the best, hyung," he says smugly, then sings, "you wouldn't get this from any other guy—"
Seokjin huffs, head falling back against the pillow. "Are you going to suck me off or not? Because I could, actually, get that from at least five other guys."
Taehyung squawks, indignant, before twisting his hand pointedly. Seokjin gasps before he can suppress it, and Taehyung laughs, delighted. "Just you watch, hyung," Taehyung teases, "I'm going to win you over in the end. You know why?"
Seokjin knows exactly why, but he still says, "Why's that, Taehyung?"
"Because," Taehyung says, and then belts the chorus along with Rick Astley, his voice sweet and full and all the more perfect for the way it catches on his giggles.
Seokjin's listening to music while studying—he's found the playlist makes a pretty decent motivational soundtrack, if he can manage to ignore the pavlovian boner he gets from it—when Jungkook shoves open his door.
He looks up with an expectant smile, and a moment later Jungkook seems to register what's playing because he blanches and starts backing out of the room. "I'll come back later hyung, sorry to bother you—"
"Jungkook," Seokjin says, flat and unimpressed, and Jungkook freezes guiltily, shoulders up around his ears. "You can't avoid me forever, you know."
Jungkook makes a face. "Can't I, though?"
Seokjin smiles and turns off the music. "Come here, baby," he coaxes, velvety and sweet, and Jungkook jolts, face scrunching up suspiciously at the sudden change in tone. Still, he shuts the door and shuffles over to the bed, crawling up and into Seokjin's lap for a kiss.
"Jungkook-ah," Seokjin breathes, cupping the back of Jungkook's neck lightly. "You're a good boy."
Jungkook shudders, hands tightening on Seokjin's shoulders, because he knows better than to take that at face value. He's waiting for the other shoe to drop, but because he can't control himself, he says, "Yeah?"
Seokjin kisses the sharp corner of his jaw, soft and gentle. "You want to be good for me, right?"
He hears the hitch in Jungkook's breathing loud and clear as a bell. "Yeah, hyung, I—"
The hand on Jungkook's nape flies up to his hair and pulls, forcing a high, wild noise out of Jungkook's throat. "You're such a brat, though," Seokjin sighs with almost theatrical disappointment, and Jungkook makes a gratifyingly desperate noise.
"I'm not," he denies brazenly.
Seokjin purses his lips. "I just wanted to do something nice for Yoongi, but you couldn't stop yourself from trying to ruin it, could you?" The words are harsh, but they both know it's for show. Jungkook likes it best when Seokjin's a little bit mean. It's why he pulls shit like this in the first place. "Isn't that a bratty thing to do? What am I going to do with you, huh?"
Jungkook huffs, twists his fingers in the fabric of Seokjin's shirt. His hips rock forward once, before Seokjin reaches down to still them. "Don't tease, hyung, come on," he complains.
"Oh, Jungkook," Seokjin laughs. "You haven't seen anything yet."
Yoongi comes in when Seokjin's got Jungkook pinned flat on his back, squirming restlessly and panting for release. "Oh," Yoongi says, with mild surprise, "we're doing this now?"
"Seemed as good a time as any," Seokjin says, shrugging one shoulder.
"You're both—the worst," Jungkook hisses through gritted teeth.
Yoongi rolls his eyes and sits down on the chair by the window to scroll through his phone. "Don't mind me, hyung," he says to Seokjin, narrowing his eyes at the greedy hand Jungkook stretches out toward him. "Just pretend I'm not here."
Not very likely, Seokjin thinks dryly, but turns back to his task of edging Jungkook until he cries.
A moment later, he hears a familiar melody and then Park Jiyoon's voice swells into the room. Seokjin huffs out a quiet laugh through his nose. "Thanks, Yoongi-yah," Seokjin says dryly, and Yoongi hums innocently in response.
The Song is about tenth in the playlist; it only takes until the eighth for Jungkook to start begging, lips red from biting at them, eyes shiny but not quite teary. Seokjin trades a glance with Yoongi, who sighs and graciously skips ahead.
The second the drums kick in, Jungkook whines, "Ugh, no—" and Seokjin smirks against his hip.
"What," he says, "did you think I'd make everyone else do it and not you?"
"I thought—fuck," Jungkook cries out when Seokjin bites inside of his thigh. "I th-thought the edging was my punishment."
"It's not a punishment if you like it," Yoongi says dryly without glancing up from his phone.
Jungkook whines pathetically, but doesn't protest.
Seokjin lifts his head to look at Yoongi. "What do you think, Yoongi-yah? Edge him some more, or let him come to Rick Astley?"
Jungkook's breath hitches.
Yoongi attempts to stifle a smile and fails miserably. "Hmm," he says conversationally. "The second one."
"All right then," Seokjin says, and Jungkook makes a raw, pleading noise, eyes finally welling up properly. They spill over as he comes, letting out little wounded whimpers as he squirms against Seokjin's hold, before finally going limp.
Seokjin waits until Jungkook's sniffles die down, petting his hair gently.
Jungkook opens his eyes, blinks a few times, and looks between Seokjin and Yoongi hesitantly. "Hyung?"
Yoongi tilts his head at Seokjin, who replies, "Yeah?"
"...can one of you fuck me already?"
Spoiled, Seokjin thinks. Yoongi laughs incredulously, setting his phone down before climbing up on the bed beside them. Jungkook smiles smugly, grabbing Yoongi's hand and holding it tight. A spoiled brat.
Good thing that's how they like him.