Jimin doesn’t like Min Yoongi.
Four days ago, Jimin experienced a big, bad hunch in the exact moment Yoongi stepped into their house. Namjoon had been smiling for no apparent reason, flashing a smug grin at Jimin as soon as he had spotted him across the living room. That wasn’t the way they usually greeted each other. Namjoon should have approached him, kissed him, asked him about his day. It had taken Jimin a few seconds to detect why Namjoon’s behavior had changed: a second man invading the place, taking off his shoes and leaving them near the door without asking first, as if he had been there a thousand times.
Maybe he had, and that’s what makes Jimin despise him. That was his first time meeting Min Yoongi, a small man that looked at him from head to toe, that sort of gaze that leaves no doubt about how Yoongi has heard about him before. That he had heard a lot, in fact, whether it was good or bad.
He has nothing against Min Yoongi, or that is what Jimin is telling him to himself, because his reticence comes from logical reasons. This is a clear invasion of his privacy. Of his territory, to be exact, whether that territory is a house or a person. Jimin had tried to give him a chance, really, not to think ill of him. But Yoongi could guide himself inside the house without any problem, and that hadn’t settled well with him. Yoongi didn’t need directions to reach the bathroom, he knew he could only smoke in the garden or the balcony, and he knew where the cups and plates were among the twenty cupboards the kitchen had.
Jimin refuses to admit that he’s jealous. He’s just unnerved, because Namjoon has clearly spent time with Yoongi at their home, and it has been a considerable amount of time considering Yoongi’s familiarity with his surroundings. When, why, how, Jimin has no idea. He ignores the reason why Namjoon has never talked about Yoongi as well.
“Be a good boy,” Namjoon tells him the second time he arrives at home with Yoongi, only three days after the first time. “He’s smart. He can tell that you don’t want him here.”
Jimin wishes that he could obey, but a glance at Yoongi is enough to make his blood boil, an unknown sensation creeping on his skin. Yoongi has cold eyes and a permanent serious expression, and Jimin would have thought that it was his regular expression, but he has seen him smile at Namjoon. However, when his eyes set on Jimin, his features don’t give anything away. He’s calculating, analyzing, and although Jimin is used to that kind of attention, he doesn’t welcome it from everyone. He loves giving the power up, but not having it taken away from him.
“I’m trying, hyung,” Jimin assures Namjoon, looking up at him. Namjoon doesn’t believe him, lifting his eyebrows at him, and Jimin feels like a little kid being scolded. The truth slips through his lips out of impulse, “But I don’t want him here.”
Curious, Namjoon tilts his head to the side, as if he’s deciphering what’s going through Jimin’s mind. The fact that he hasn’t noticed Jimin’s reticence, when Namjoon can read every little gesture of his, means that he hasn’t brought Yoongi on purpose to bother Jimin. Jimin shouldn’t even suspect him, to begin with, because he trusts Namjoon with his whole soul and body.
“He’s going to be around us for a while,” Namjoon sentences in the end. It’s a warning, a negative, and Jimin even more unsettled. He’s used to being pampered, at least outside of bed, and Namjoon never denies him his requests so bluntly. “You’re not ten years old, Jimin. Don’t act like a child.”
It gets worse.
On the fifth day, even though Yoongi doesn’t sleep over, Jimin remains alone in bed. Namjoon doesn’t even step into their room, maybe as a punishment for the way Jimin treats Yoongi – or the lack of treatment, for that matter. Maybe he’s just angry at him, and his absence isn’t meant to warn Jimin of anything.
On the sixth day, Namjoon doesn’t sleep in their bedroom either, but he visits him briefly. It’s for sex, not to make up, and Jimin is fine with it, because he doesn’t want to lose this battle against Yoongi. Namjoon fucks him face down, pressing his face against the mattress so that Jimin’s screams can’t be heard; Jimin doesn’t know if Yoongi is sleeping in the room next to them, but Jimin plays along, lets Namjoon lead however he likes.
Namjoon tells him only one thing when he finishes, one thing that lands in Jimin’s stomach like a blow and angers him: you don’t own me. And Jimin refutes, but you own me. Namjoon stares at him in frustration, pulls him closer by his legs and helps him to clean up, but he doesn’t add anything meanwhile.
“I don’t own you,” he reminds Jimin, using that tone that hints how careful he’s being with Jimin. He does it only after they’re completely clean, when there isn’t any trace of sex on them so that Jimin knows that this isn’t one of their games. Namjoon is serious, though not mad at him. “If you think I own you, I’ll stop paying for your tuition. I’ll stop giving you gifts. I’m not paying you to stay with me.”
Jimin is aware of that, but hearing it out loud leaves him too shocked to respond. They never discuss, or have discussed money before, because there isn’t any need to say what both of them know. When they first met, Jimin needed the money, but they never considered their relationship a matter of money, a business. Namjoon gave, and Jimin received, and they felt that there was no shame in it. Namjoon provides him things that are more important than his money, and it’s true that sometimes Jimin suffers from an inferiority complex, but overall he enjoys feeling inferior. And Namjoon, even if he doesn’t express it often, loves having that control over him. They trust each other enough for it.
When those words abandon Namjoon’s mouth, however, Jimin feels their trust slipping through his fingers. Namjoon waits for him to confirm that he’s not here for the money, and that hurts. Namjoon should be certain of it by now, and Jimin doesn’t have the heart to repeat it – almost like Namjoon’s doubts make him unworthy of that reassurance. When Namjoon turns around and leaves him, alone, with the dim light of the room, Jimin realizes that he has fucked up.
It could have been a game. If Namjoon intended to make him jealous, then they would have fixed it in no time, and Namjoon would have made fun of him while he fucked him, would have enjoyed crushing Jimin’s possessiveness with a bit of humiliation.
Jimin is now sure that Namjoon doesn’t bring Yoongi over with that intention, but he can tell that there is something beyond simply inviting a friend over. Yoongi is more than a friend for him.
Only when Jimin has heard Namjoon entering the guest room at the end of the hall, he snaps back to reality. There is too much silence around him, since he’s used to Namjoon’s breathing, to his body moving over the bed, and Jimin can’t spend another night like this. He wears clean underwear, puts on the t-shirt that Namjoon was wearing when he arrived, and inspects the hall to make sure there is no one outside.
The living room is empty, in darkness, but the balcony isn’t. Jimin knows right away that it isn’t Namjoon. First, because the guy has propelled his feet up on the railing, something that Namjoon would never do; second, because the only light coming from outside is from a cigarette, and Namjoon doesn’t smoke. Yoongi does.
Jimin only watches him from afar for a few seconds, deciding what to do. Yoongi’s profile is beautiful, Jimin can admit that. Intimidating as well. But Jimin lives here too, even if it’s Namjoon’s house, and he can’t let Yoongi run over both his relationship and his private space just because he has the power to do so. Before he’s aware of his own decision, he finds himself striding towards the balcony, thinking up of how to confront Yoongi about all this, about why he’s here and why Namjoon favors him over Jimin.
That confidence crumbles down as soon as he slides the balcony’s door, because the creaking sounds draw Yoongi’s attention. It doesn’t alarm him, though, because he turns his head slowly, uninterested, as though Jimin was just a fly buzzing around him.
That’s it until he recognizes Jimin, frozen by the door, and a grin blooms on his face. It’s not a welcoming grin, but a satisfied one. An entertained one, more suitable for when someone sees a puppy cross the door. Jimin doesn’t understand it at first, not until Yoongi’s eyes roam down to his bare legs and Jimin becomes aware of his own state.
Yoongi doesn’t bother to hide that he’s looking at him. His gaze travels all over his thighs and takes a while to go up to his face again. By the time Jimin makes eye contact with him, his cheeks are burning, not only from shame. He doesn’t need a mirror to know that he’s red.
His reaction doesn’t inhibit Yoongi; if anything, it encourages him, and he blows the smoke of his cigarette upwards before asking Jimin, “Had a good fuck?”
Jimin isn’t expecting nice questions, yet that accurate, specific question breaks all his previous determination. Either Yoongi has heard them or has guessed it because of Jimin’s lack of clothes, and none of these options are soothing. Not when Yoongi seems to be enjoying it, not when Yoongi talks like he could give him a good fuck if he didn’t have one.
“What?” is all Jimin can mutter.
Yoongi laughs a short, dry laugh. His laughter sounds higher than Jimin would have imagined. “You’re shy. I see,” he points out, calm. He lowers his feet off the railing, unapologetic, and adds, “Want to hang out?”
The invitation shouldn’t feel like permission, like a favor Yoongi is doing to him, but it does. It’s a familiar sensation, so familiar that Jimin accepts right away without realizing that it’s not Namjoon talking. When he sits down on the chair next to Yoongi, it’s too late to remember that he only obeys Namjoon.
Yoongi puts off his cigarette, either feigning distraction or not not paying any attention to Jimin on purpose, but once the cigarette is forgotten, Jimin is everything Yoongi stares at. Unlike Jimin has predicted, it’s not exactly uncomfortable. The atmosphere is tense, yes, but that’s what happens when you’re alone with someone that you’ve been glaring at for days, or when you’re half naked in front of a guy that has no repairs in inspecting you from head to toe.
Yoongi does nothing but to look at him, a signal that he’s not going to facilitate a conversation. It’s a pull and push game, and Jimin is an expert at those – at learning that he has to surrender first.
Since Jimin has to talk first, he chooses a question that he’s interested in, “How did you and Namjoon become friends?”
If the choice surprises Yoongi, he doesn’t show it. “We went to college together,” he explains, observing the garden under them. Jimin doesn’t need to comment that they look closer than simple classmates, because Yoongi continues, “We were like family, inseparable. We used to share everything, no matter how personal it was.”
Jimin may be oblivious to most insinuations, but he isn’t a fool. Yoongi’s answer isn’t casual, it’s full of intention, full of that certain confidence Jimin knows well.
Still, he plays dumb and asks, “Things?”
Unable to hide his amusement, Yoongi dedicates him a smile full of teeth. “Things. People,” he whispers, lowering his voice in the last word. “I thought that he wouldn’t have dropped that habit. He’s a man of habits.”
A shiver runs down Jimin’s spine. Realization sinks like a heavy rock in his guts, because he should have known: Namjoon has given him enough hints for him to notice on his own, but Jimin was too blinded by his jealousy. A small talk with Yoongi and that cascade of insecurities wouldn’t have eaten Jimin alive. It’s too late to repent now. Yoongi knows he has been childish, and so does Namjoon, and Jimin can’t help but feel embarrassed.
“Namjoon barely mentions you,” Yoongi points out, inspecting Jimin with curiosity. Jimin is sure that’s a lie, a trap to toy with his feelings, and anyhow he feels sucked into the game. He bites the bait, indignation plastered all over his face, and Yoongi smirks at him. “But I get why. You exceed expectations.”
A hit and a compliment. Yoongi knows what he’s doing, not because he can read Jimin’s mind, but because he’s smart enough to sense Jimin’s feelings. It’s either his experience or Namjoon having given him advice to deal with Jimin; deep inside, Jimin suspects that it’s a mixture of both. Jimin is just an inexperienced boy for him.
Jimin has to gather all his self-control not to stutter after Yoongi’s words. “Why did you stop contacting each other?”
“Who says we did?” Yoongi replies with a trace of defiance. He seems to notice how Jimin blinks at him, petrified, because he waves his hand to indicate that it’s fine. “Adulthood.”
It doesn’t sound like an excuse, but like something he regrets. It’s still unsettling that Namjoon has never talked about Yoongi before, perhaps because he wanted to hide what he used to do before meeting Jimin. Jimin doesn’t comprehend it, since they have done far worse both out and in bed, but that must mean that Yoongi isn’t just anyone for Namjoon.
Silence falls over them for a while, but then Yoongi’s eyes scrutinize him and he orders, “Come here.”
Jimin obeys without reticence, which drives him to realize two things: one, that he trusts Yoongi because he clearly has managed someone like Jimin before; two, that Yoongi treats him as if he was his, and that can only be Namjoon’s doing.
Yoongi doesn’t hesitate before bringing Jimin closer, hooking his index finger in Jimin’s underwear. It’s easy, Jimin makes it easier, but he can’t breathe all of a sudden. Yoongi spreads his legs and tugs Jimin forward until he’s able to rest his hands on Jimin’s hips comfortably, until Jimin’s legs are stuck between his thighs. Jimin takes a deep breath, feeling how Yoongi’s hands caress down his sides, his waist, his hips, his thighs, eyes focused on Jimin’s face to capture his reaction.
“You’re very loyal to Namjoon,” Yoongi remarks, pressing his thumb there where Jimin’s underwear ends, the fabric pressing on his thigh. His tone is unaffected, as though he’s touching a pillow, not a half naked boy. “Aren’t you?”
It’s a subtle way to ask about their relationship, and Jimin can’t resist the urge to frown, “It’s not about loyalty.”
“What is it, then?” Yoongi asks, displaying a sided smile that sweeps all of Jimin’s previous thoughts. There isn’t any doubt that he’s making fun of him when he asks, “Love?”
All Jimin can do is tremble under Yoongi's touch. His fingers, there where they touch, incite goosebumps, and Jimin hates that he's so sensitive, hates that Yoongi is toying with him and still he's not capable of resisting. Deep within he’s unable to disobey, because he wants to be good, even if Yoongi doesn’t own him. His relationship with Namjoon is clearly not about loyalty, otherwise he wouldn’t melt under Yoongi’s eyes this way.
“Not love?” Yoongi insists, conscious of the daze Jimin is in. He's not smiling anymore, and he fists Jimin's shirt and tugs him down, but Jimin manages to stay up. “Just fucking? Getting fucked until you can't walk anymore? That's why you're with Namjoon?”
He's not. Yet Jimin knows what Yoongi wishes to hear, what Namjoon would wish to hear, so Jimin complies. “Yes.”
This time Yoongi pushes him down so hard that Jimin's knees aren't strong enough to take it. He gasps when he hits the floor, and his arms automatically grab onto Yoongi to soften the fall. Yoongi doesn't ask him if he's fine - both of them know Jimin would say it if he wasn't - and Jimin likes the risk, the way Yoongi doesn't even hesitate to pull him by the hair so that he lifts his chin.
Jimin feels like laughing from happiness, but he doesn't dare to even smile. He stares up at Yoongi, cheeks still burning from shame and satisfaction, and Yoongi bends forward, breath hitching over his lips.
“Disloyal, indeed,” Yoongi insults him, and Jimin has to hold himself back not to preen. “No wonder Namjoon has so much fun with you. Your sense of property is fucked up. You belong to whoever Namjoon wants, but Namjoon belongs to only you.”
It's not the first time someone refers to him as property. Namjoon uses it sometimes, when Jimin grows a tendency to rebel. Yoongi lacks that ethic or simply doesn't care about Jimin's feelings. It's a great change for once. Perhaps that's the reason Namjoon has brought Yoongi for both of them.
“What do you want to do?” Yoongi asks him, gaze falling on Jimin’s mouth.
It's a trap, but Jimin is overwhelmed by excitement, impatient, and he answers the only thing he shouldn't answer: the truth.
“I want to suck you off,” Jimin whispers. He watched how Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and a rush of power travels through him when he realizes that he can provoke such a reaction. “I want you to fuck me and not tell Namjoon.”
One second afterwards, Jimin realizes that he has spoiled everything. He can read it on Yoongi's eyes, that he doesn't like his words, that he has ruined the game. Much to his shock, Yoongi's frustration flashes so fast over his face that Jimin can barely analyze it, and before he can excuse himself, Yoongi has closed the distance between them. Yoongi drags Jimin's lower lip with his thumb and then traps it between his lips. It's just once, slowly, like a taste of what Jimin didn’t earn. And then Yoongi withdraws, biting down on Jimin's lip.
“And who told you that you deserve that?” he scolds him with a scoff. He sits up again, and when Jimin looks up at him, still open mouthed, he sets a foot on Jimin's chest and gives him a small kick, enough to make him lose his balance. Jimin falls back on his butt, too shocked to realize that Yoongi has just kicked him. “Should we ask Namjoon?”
Jimin wakes up with a headache and the certainty that Yoongi has snitched on him about what happened last night.
At first it’s Jimin’s intuition, yet it becomes evident when Jimin finds both of them having breakfast, laughing with each other. It's evident because of the silence that invades the place with Jimin's presence, because Namjoon sends him a questioning look that would intimidate anyone.
Luckily, Jimin is familiar with Namjoon's ways. His seriousness doesn’t imply that he’s displeased with Jimin; in fact, Jimin would sweat that the shine in his eyes is born from contentment.
“Did you sleep well?” Yoongi asks him, though he’s not expecting an answer. He slides one glass of milk over the table so that Jimin can drink it, and then turns around to get actual food for him. “We're going out tonight, if you want to join us.”
Jimin licks his lips, indecisive. Perhaps because he has just waken up, he can’t analyze the situation or the reason why he’s being invited. “Going out?”
"Yeah. Like in the old times.” Namjoon flashes a seemingly innocent smile at him, dimples showing, but it’s a smile that is anything except innocent. “Not exactly like that, since we already found our company.”
Jimin nods, accepting. Though they don’t speak explicitly about Jimin’s mistake, Jimin feels relieved for the way Namjoon and Yoongi act around him. Nothing has changed, which means Jimin didn’t cross any line that should have been untouchable; it means that he ruined his moment with Yoongi, but that such moment was meant to happen, Namjoon around or not.
Yoongi and Namjoon disappear one hour later, and they don’t inform him of where they’re going. Jimin knows that he needs to distract himself and not to think about tonight, so he meets up with Taehyung for lunch. Taehyung, who usually speaks without any pause, without taking a moment to read Jimin’s face or worrying about the other half, notices something is off just twenty minutes into the conversation.
Even if Taehyung is the only person that is updated about the type of relationship he has with Namjoon, Jimin doesn’t want to explain the situation with Yoongi. It feels, for some reason, too intimate. It would be too hard to understand as well, because Jimin can’t comprehend himself why he’s so attracted to the idea of Namjoon lending him to Yoongi. He just is, in a whirlwind of both jealousy and lust.
“Did you fight?” Taehyung squints at him, as if the answer was written on Jimin’s forehead and he had forgotten his glasses. “Disagreements?”
“That’s the same thing, just a different word,” Jimin laughs, nervous. “But you could call it a misunderstanding.”
That rings Taehyung’s suspicions, if the way he furrows his eyebrows is anything to go by. “If you need help, just hit me up,” Taehyung offers, and Jimin can sense that his reticence to share his problems is propelling Taehyung to come up with his own crazy theories. “And we will take him down.”
Jimin laughs harder at that, ignoring how Taehyung’s expression becomes dark. “Please, you love Namjoon. Even if we had an actual problem, you would probably console him behind my back.”
Speechless, Taehyung doesn’t have the heart to refute that. Namjoon has always been nice to everyone, to Jimin’s friends and family, to his neighbors, to anyone that crossed paths with him. That’s part of his charm, because he takes care not only of Jimin, but also of everyone around him. It’s impossible for Jimin not to trust him with his whole being.
Trying to delay the meeting with Yoongi and Namjoon, Jimin spends the afternoon with Taehyung. He isn't sure of why he's so irked, so nervous, but every time he remembers being on his knees in front of Yoongi, his heart attempts to leap out of his chest. Avoidance is the only solution that he has to deal with his emotions, but it's a temporary measure that won’t work on the long run.
Much to his surprise, it's not Namjoon who calls him when the sun begins to hide in the horizon. The texts he receives are from Yoongi, who introduces himself first with a mocking I'm Yoongi, I got your number from a bathroom stall. You good at blowing? Jimin has to make a great effort not to burst into laughter, because it's surrealist to read that message coming from a man like Yoongi. However, they agree to meet in a bar, though Yoongi drops that they're already there, waiting for him.
It's not a surprise to find out that Namjoon and Yoongi have already been drinking without him - that explains the text and the fact that Namjoon would lend Jimin's phone number so easily. Both of them are pretty dressed up for a simple bar, sporting shirts that aren't properly buttoned and tight pants; Namjoon is still wearing his job clothes, and his white shirt and black tie contrast against Yoongi's dark, dangerously unbuttoned shirt.
Jimin feels breathless when he gazes at them. It feels like a punch right on his chest. Namjoon's long legs, his laughter that can't be heard due to the music; Yoongi resting against the counter, relaxed as he smirks up at Namjoon. Jimin's knees weaken at the sight, not because he's scared, but because he's overwhelmed. He needs this, but he didn't know that he needed it so much.
Yoongi is the first to notice his presence, hawk eyes shooting through him, scanning him from head to toe. The inspection makes Jimin feel small, insignificant. A bit embarrassed because he didn't dress up for them, and that's a sign of disrespect towards them that Jimin shouldn't have neglected.
But they don't seem to mind, judging how Yoongi slings an arm around his waist when he's close enough to touch him. It's a gesture to protect him, or at least it is for Jimin, who feels himself sway into Yoongi's embrace for safety.
“You think that it's okay to make us wait?” Yoongi laughs, and despite the question, his fingers roam through Jimin's hair with delicacy. “Not very polite of you.”
“He has never been very polite,” Namjoon agrees, observing them in interest. “He only stops running his mouth when he's under me.”
Jimin can't help but check that no one has heard them, even if the bartender is passing by in that exact second. Namjoon likes exposing him, making sexual remarks in public just to see how Jimin reacts - he often panics, flushes red, but both Namjoon and him enjoy it.
That's what Yoongi experiences now: Jimin shrinking in shame, eyes wide as he checks that no one knows about his submissive behaviour. It makes Yoongi clack, the sound buzzing in Jimin's head.
“I'll have to see that myself,” Yoongi decides.
Jimin knew that this would happen.
Drinking isn’t the smartest choice, and even though Jimin refuses most of Yoongi’s offers, he winds up giving into his insistence. Namjoon makes sure to take the drink off his hands once he considers that Jimin has had enough, and Jimin is lucky there is someone that can measure it, because Yoongi seems not to have any limit.
Yoongi looks beyond delighted at Jimin, but he still radiates that vibe that tells that he feels like he’s dealing with a pet rather than someone he wants to fuck. It attracts Jimin, for some reason, and due to the alcohol he throws himself at Yoongi several times. All of his advances are stopped by Namjoon, and both Namjoon and Yoongi always laugh at him. Unlike Jimin, Yoongi and Namjoon have high alcohol tolerance, so it's them who call a taxi, and Namjoon guides him inside to make sure he doesn't hit his head while getting on.
Jimin loses control then, between Namjoon and Yoongi, the heat of the car and a taxi driver that seems oblivious of their intentions. He loses control because Yoongi's hand brushes between his legs, another hand grasping his chin to make Jimin stare at him. The corners of his lips are slightly curled up, like a small reminder of their last kiss, inviting him.
Then Jimin feels a second hand, a larger one that is much more familiar to him. Namjoon's hands are big enough to cover his whole thigh, but he doesn't do that: he brings Jimin's thighs apart until he's completely spread out, in a position in which he can't use the strength of his legs to close them. In other circumstances, Jimin would have been worried about the driver, but he doesn't have time as Namjoon carefully moves him towards Yoongi. Yoongi doesn't waste any second before licking into Jimin's mouth.
Out of vulnerability, a moan slides past Jimin’s lips. Then Yoongi breaks apart, laughing, as if that was everything he has ever planned. It’s not, of course, but it’s his silent way of telling Jimin that he knows how eager he is, that he has to calm down, that he’s easy. Jimin has a hard time not to fist Yoongi’s shirt and beg, but it’s too soon. He will get scolded by Namjoon, will get ridiculized by Yoongi.
The ride only takes a few minutes that feel like a torture for Jimin. Namjoon is there to help him, to keep him in line while they’re in the taxi. He whispers smoothing things into his ear, promises him that he’ll be rewarded if he behaves, if he listens to his orders and makes Yoongi happy. Jimin wants to protest, because he’s sure that he doesn’t need orders to please Yoongi. Maybe he needs them to please him in the way that Namjoon wants him to, though.
By the time they arrive at home, Jimin’s head has completely cleared out. It’s an advantage because he can handle himself, or so he thinks, but it’s a disadvantage because he becomes very conscious of his surroundings. Namjoon’s hand on his lower back as he guides him into their house feels heavier than usual. Yoongi walks ahead of them, holding their keys, and watches them enter with an unreadable expression.
Jimin has never done this. They, Namjoon and him, have never done this together. However he thought it would be, he wasn’t expecting to be pushed against the door as soon as the door closed, Namjoon caging him. The push is harder than how Namjoon usually treats him, but Jimin forgets about when Namjoon meets his mouth without hesitation. Instead of bending down, he encircles Jimin’s legs and lifts him up. Namjoon can hold his weight easily, so Jimin isn’t afraid of falling. He surrounds Namjoon’s hips with his own legs, searching for friction.
Unlike him, Namjoon isn’t fully hard, but he’s impatient, thrusting forward to rub against Jimin. Jimin has to pull at his tie to undo it while they kiss, because Namjoon is only worried about undressing him, and it wouldn’t be the first time Jimin ends up naked all by himself. Tonight, however, Yoongi is there, and when Jimin feels a hand slipping beneath his top, he can tell that it doesn’t belong to Namjoon.
Yoongi’s presence is what brings Namjoon back to his senses, since he pulls back to stare at Jimin, breathless, “Go with Yoongi.”
Jimin has the urge of asking if he’s not coming with them, yet Namjoon’s eyes fix him in his place, shutting him up. The path to Namjoon’s bedroom is chaotic, and there’s no option for Jimin but to let go. He has Yoongi’s hands all over him, his lips on his neck, his fingers tearing at his clothes. Even if he doesn’t realize that he’s responding, he knows that he is thanks to Yoongi’s compliments. It’s the perfect moment to touch Yoongi as much as he wants to, before he takes control and forbids him to touch him back.
But then he’s lying on his back, the mattress soft under him, and Yoongi hovers over him with an expression that doesn’t predict anything good. When he speaks, he asks the hardest question for Jimin, “Namjoon or me?”
Jimin opens his mouth, but no words come out. He doesn’t understand what Yoongi is asking. Who does he want to fuck him first? Who does he want to obey? If he could just take a look at Namjoon's face, he would be able to guess what the correct answer is. But Namjoon is stepping into the room right then, not facing them, and Yoongi holds Jimin's chin so that he doesn't move his head. Jimin focuses all his attention on him, conscious that it’s what Yoongi is demanding.
“Namjoon,” Jimin whispers, flinching as soon as the name leaves his mouth.
But Yoongi doesn't look surprised, not even offended. There isn't any punishment for Jimin, just the sound of Yoongi scoffing at his choice, and then his lips kissing the corner of Jimin's mouth before backing away. Jimin wants to apologize, plead with him to come back, but all that comes out is a weak whine.
Yoongi doesn't abandom him, of course. He moves away, still caressing Jimin's neck, to leave room for Namjoon. Namjoon has gotten rid of his tie in the meantime, but also of his shirt and trousers. Jimin laments that, because he’s used to Namjoon ordering him to unbutton his shirt for him. Tonight it's obvious that both Namjoon and Yoongi are impatient, and Jimin himself doesn’t will to contradict them. He’s restless to.
“Are you calling me?” Namjoon teases, though his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. He climbs on the bed, coming so close that Jimin inches forward for a kiss. Namjoon politely rejects it, “I thought that you were very interested in Yoongi, not in me, or that's what I understood.”
It was obvious that Namjoon would bring the topic sooner or later, so he’s ready not to lie. There isn’t any reason to do so, anyway, because Namjoon set up this whole circus for them.
“I want Yoongi,” Jimin says in a whisper, coy.
A small laugh comes from his side, yet Namjoon presses a hand on his stomach to keep him in his place, not to let him look at Yoongi.
“You want both?” Namjoon insists. He fondles Jimin's hair, and when Jimin stares into Namjoon's dark eyes, he becomes blank. Only the need of having him inside him, fast, rough, stays. “But you don't want us to have each other.”
Jimin comprehends what's coming. Neither of them even need his confirmation, and when Namjoon spins his head towards Yoongi, Jimin isn't a little bit shocked to find Yoongi slinking towards Namjoon.
They kiss with the familiarity of those who have kissed uncountable times. Jimin feels fire in his guts, and it's not jealousy or greed. He doesn't know what it is, because it’s a new sensation, but it steals his oxygen and makes him want to reach out, to touch Yoongi and kiss him too. Yoongi, who was there for Namjoon even before Jimin met him; Yoongi, who has the power to make him kneel in front of him and dismiss him afterwards. And yet, despite his power, Yoongi chooses to obey Namjoon.
Following his instinct, Jimin doesn't remain still. He sits up and clasps his fingers in Yoongi's pants; he’s clumsy as he unfastens them, feeling as though he has never touched a man. Yoongi is hard, much to his surprise, and he’s bigger than Jimin has imagined, considering he's a short and thin man. His cock springs free and Jimin must hesitate for a moment, because Yoongi notices his pause and grabs his head to guide him.
Jimin can't remember the moment when Yoongi lies down, or the moment he slides between his legs. All he knows is that one moment they’re kissing, and the next moment he’s struggling not to choke on Yoongi’s dick, heavy against his tongue. Yoongi directs the pace, fingers pulling at his hair as he brings Jimin up and down. Jimin likes it this way, when he can’t do anything to change the pace, when he’s at other man’s mercy. But as soon as Yoongi lets him breath for more than one seconds, he uses his tongue to lick the head, like a small rebellion. Jimin doesn't want to breathe. Every time he checks out Yoongi's expression, seeing him with his mouth half open, head thrown back in pleasure, is enough to drive Jimin's motivation.
Namjoon doesn't bother them at first. He waits next to them and compliments Jimin, but by the time Jimin notices what he has been doing, he's naked down to his underwear. Namjoon's hands are discreet and fast, and Jimin is too distracted with the pressure of Yoongi’s dick in his mouth to notice how his clothes disappear piece by piece.
It's only when Namjoon presses his own erection against Jimin's underwear that he gasps, caught off guard. Namjoon holds his ass up, aware that Jimin's knees weaken easily, and Yoongi has the decency to slow down, to thrust upward a bit more carefully.
“Having trouble?” Namjoon asks him, voice hoarse but joyful.
Yoongi doesn’t let Jimin talk, sinking deeper into his mouth, and Jimin can feel Namjoon’s body vibrating, a silent laugh behind him. The next thing he knows is that his underwear is falling down his thighs, stopping at his knees and restraining his movements. Jimin is sure that Namjoon is going to take advantage of that, and indeed he doesn’t show any intention of completely disregarding his underwear.
Without warning, Namjoon grabs his cheeks and slides his thumb into Jimin’s ass. It’s slick from lube and Jimin is still loose from the night before, but he isn’t prepared for it. He closes around Namjoon’s finger with a gasp, and Namjoon has to caress his back for a few seconds to relax him. Both of them know that it’s a courtesy that won’t last for long. Jimin does his best to adapt to Namjoon’s finger, yet he can’t help but arch and sink his nails in Yoongi’s hips when Namjoon adds a second finger, and then a third finger.
Yoongi sits up, slackens his strength so that Jimin can rest for a second. It’s the perfect moment for Jimin to show him that he can’t go easy on him, that he will rebel if Yoongi softens, even if he’s struggling with the growing pace of Namjoon’s fingers. Free from Yoongi’s grasp, Jimin licks up his dick, fixing his stare on his face. Staring back at him, Yoongi answers with a string of curses, and pushes Jimin’s head down again as a revenge for provoking him.
“Don’t let your guard down,” Namjoon warns him, even though it’s too late. Yoongi has already learned from his mistake. “He doesn’t always behave.”
Only when you don’t command well, Jimin wants to say. But Namjoon’s fingers are long and know where to touch, and in a matter of seconds he’s not merely being stretched: Namjoon rubs against Jimin’s most sensitive spots, with the certainty of someone that has been inside him too many times not to remember.
It takes Jimin a few seconds to crumble down, but luckily Yoongi doesn’t force his limits and helps him to stay on four. His pupils dilate at the image of Jimin getting fingered, arms trembling as he tries to support himself, and Yoongi hoists Jimin’s chin to kiss him. It’s a small kiss, to tell him that he was good, yet it leaves Jimin breathless and he can barely kiss him back.
“Please,” Jimin whines then. His voice comes out strained and weak, and Yoongi ignores him on purpose, pretending that he hasn’t heard it. “Please.”
“Please what?” Yoongi whispers, so close that he accidentally brushes his lips against Jimin’s mouth. “Do you want me to tell Namjoon something?”
Jimin understands Yoongi’s game. He can read it in his face, yet he can only close his eyes for a moment and repeat, “Please.”
“Are you asking for my permission?” Yoongi insists, not disposed to have mercy on him. “I thought you preferred Namjoon, didn’t you?”
Namjoon pulls his fingers out in that exact moment, and that’s the last straw for Jimin, who loses all strength and falls against the sheets. He falls right before Yoongi’s knees, but instead of propping him up, Yoongi withdraws. Jimin doesn’t have any time to think about what’s happening, because one second later Namjoon tugs him from his toes and shifts him around.
Struggling with Jimin’s shaking legs, Namjoon does finally take off his underwear. He stops trembling as soon as Namjoon caresses his sides. Jimin blinks the blurriness away, a blurriness that he hasn’t noticed until now, when he tries to focus on Namjoon’s expression. Namjoon licks his lips, impatient, yet under that his confidence is contagious and Jimin feels safe with him. It doesn’t require any effort from Namjoon’s part to push his legs apart, since Jimin spreads them without any resistance, even anticipating to his movements.
That’s when Jimin spots the cock ring. As an automatic reflex, Jimin attempts to squeeze his legs together, because he knows what he will have to go through. Namjoon rarely uses rings on him, but when he does, Jimin cries for hours until he can reach his own climax.
“Don’t be so ahead, babe,” Namjoon tells him, and judging his tone, he’s not amused. The way he spreads Jimin’s legs a second time is almost demanding, leaving no room for Jimin to disobey. “You’re a bit daring tonight.”
Namjoon is right, though it’s his nervousness taking over, not because Jimin is doing it on purpose. Jimin is about to plead when Namjoon presses a finger against his lips, to stop him, and that’s enough for Jimin to know that Namjoon isn’t going to fuck him just yet. That Namjoon was getting him ready for Yoongi, stretching him, putting him in the right position and spreading his legs. And Jimin wants to protest because he needs Namjoon too, but his stomach tenses in excitement at the thought of being used this way. Namjoon is really giving him to his friend like a present.
When Yoongi slides between his legs and dips for a kiss, Jimin is brave enough to curl a hand around his neck. Yoongi allows him to bring him down, to deepen the kiss, but he kisses Jimin with so much eagerness that Jimin can’t keep up.
It turns out to be a distraction from the way Yoongi presses his dick against Jimin’s rim, yet as soon as Jimin feels the contact, he gasps in both surprise and frustration. Frustration because Yoongi doesn’t push forward; instead he smiles into his mouth and stays still, torturing him, and then he breaks the kiss.
“Say what you want, Jimin,” Yoongi cheers him up in a low voice, like a secret that Namjoon shouldn’t hear. “Tell me the words you said last night, let Namjoon know what you really wanted.”
Jimin flushes red, aware of what he said. Aware that he’s going to get punished later for it, when Yoongi leaves and he has to continue his life with Namjoon.
“I want you to fuck me,” he repeats, heat traveling from his face to his neck. “Fuck me and not tell Namjoon. Fuck me until I can’t walk. Fuck me-”
Before he can finish, Jimin sees the defeat flashing across Yoongi’s face. He thrusts forward so hard that both of them slip over the sheets. But then Yoongi holds him in place and thrusts a second time, making both of them grunt at the sensation. The feeling of Yoongi’s dick filling him up leaves him speechless, not able to articulate a single sound. Yoongi doesn’t have any consideration: he sinks himself as deep as he can, hips slapping against Jimin’s ass without waiting for him to get used to him, and moans loud in Jimin’s neck.
“Oh my god,” is what comes out as a choked mumble.
“He feels good, right?” Namjoon asks him, pleased. Jimin opens his eyes enough to see how Namjoon bends forward to hold his legs apart, to make more room for Yoongi. He notices that Jimin is checking on him and curses, “Shit, you look so sexy getting fucked by him.”
When Yoongi moves again, Jimin loses sense of the rest of the world. Yoongi is way rougher than Namjoon, loves pulling Jimin’s hair and forcing him to look at him if he closes his eyes. He hits him with every stroke as though he could go deeper, even if he can’t, even if Jimin can barely moan because he’s overwhelmed. And he laughs when Jimin pleads with him to let him come, reminds him that it’s too soon, teases that he’s going to come inside him a dozen times before Jimin can have a taste of it.
Jimin doesn’t believe him, he thinks it’s a lie, but then Yoongi comes inside him the first time, relentlessly thrusting until his dick is soft. The pressure of the cock ring against his dick makes Jimin whine, and he unconsciously reaches out to pull it out, but Yoongi seizes his arms to stop him.
“I’m not done,” Yoongi warns him right away.
Jimin becomes limp at the subtle order, and though Yoongi displays a malicious smile for a second, Jimin doesn’t protest. However, Yoongi doesn’t continue with him. It’s Namjoon who surrounds his waist and drags him onto his lap, and Jimin gladly scrambles to hold onto his shoulders.
“Look at my baby,” Namjoon croons, a crooked smile on his lips. “You know what to do, don’t you?”
Namjoon is slightly bigger than Yoongi, but Jimin adjusts well, dropping as slowly as he can without getting scolded for being greedy. He has his eyes closed, but he can still sense how Namjoon’s breath hitches, how he grasps Jimin’s cheeks as if he’s going too fast. Jimin loves those moments, even if Namjoon does his best not to show his weakness, yet Jimin can tell with precision when Namjoon feels overpowered by pleasure. It’s gratifying to know that Jimin can make him feel like that, that it doesn’t go just one way.
It’s forbidden to mention it, of course, because he would get into trouble. He has to wait for Namjoon to stabilize, to breathe normally again, until Namjoon manages to come back to his senses.
It becomes chaotic when Namjoon takes control. It always does. He latches his lips on Jimin’s neck and bites down as he lifts his hips to fuck into him, and Jimin is only able to grasp Namjoon’s shoulders to take every impact. It’s worse than being on his back, because Namjoon holds him so close that his dick rubs against Namjoon’s, and that would be enough to make him come, but the cock ring prevents it.
Namjoon rams into him until Jimin’s nerves are oversensitive, until he cries out at every move; words flow out of his mouth, but Jimin doesn’t know what he himself is saying. Whatever is, Namjoon likes it, since he slows down every time to tease him, to provoke more begging.
Unlike Yoongi, Namjoon pulls out before he can come. He brushes Jimin’s hair out of his face, cupping his jaw between his hands to kiss him, and a second later Jimin is being manhandled out of the bed. Namjoon nearly shoves him towards Yoongi, who is standing at the feet of the bed, and Jimin has to make a great effort to get back on his knees.
By the time Namjoon talks, ready to guide him, Yoongi has already fisted Jimin’s hair.
“Get him hard again,” Namjoon tells him, nonetheless.
Much to Jimin’s luck, Yoongi is half hard, and he has learned what Yoongi likes in the span of a few minutes. This time Yoongi doesn’t use excessive strength when he clamps his hands behind Jimin’s head. He allows him to do whatever he wants, to start slowly and tease him for a while, his eyes observing every one of Jimin’s move. But it’s temporary. Jimin is aware because of how Yoongi tenses up when Jimin licks the underside of his dick, when he plays with his tongue over his balls, yet Jimin tests his limits while he can. He loves drenching in Yoongi’s reactions, his eyelids dropping as he looks at Jimin, fingers twitching on his hair as though he’s trying not to force him deeper.
His dick becomes fully hard in a matter of seconds, and it’s right then when Jimin finds his weakest spot. He sucks on the head with a slurping sound and presses his tongue against the slit of his cock; Yoongi’s patience crumbles dumb, but he isn’t the only one who pushes Jimin’s head forward. There’s a third hand pressing against Jimin’s neck, making him take Yoongi’s dick so deep that it’s inevitable to choke. And though he chokes, Namjoon pulls his hair just for a second and drives him forward again until Jimin’s nose touches Yoongi’s skin.
Tears fill Jimin’s eyes, his throat clenching around Yoongi’s dick. Yoongi grunts a moan, but doesn’t give any sign of surrender, and Jimin hears how Namjoon hums in satisfaction. That encourages Jimin further, makes him forget his tears.
“He’s so good at this,” Yoongi grumbles.
He frees Jimin from his hold and lowers himself, eye to eye level, even if his first statement was directed to Namjoon. He passes his thumbs under Jimin’s eyes, wiping away the trail of tears on his face. The shine in Yoongi’s eyes is something that Jimin can perfectly recognize, something that appears in Namjoon’s face as well when he abuses his power.
“You can get up,” Namjoon tells Jimin, conscious that he’s waiting for their consent. “Get on the bed.”
Jimin does just that, though he can't ignore the soreness in his throat and the tears that remain on his face. Namjoon and Yoongi wait for him to climb up on his own, and Yoongi pats his back once he's on the bed; he shakes his head when Jimin lies on his back, however, and takes him by his ankles to turn him around.
“On four?” Jimin asks, and his voice sounds thinner than usual.
Yoongi finds the question funny for some reason, but he nods. As Jimin sits up, he meets Yoongi's lips, and for once he takes the lead in the kiss, much more comfortable with Yoongi's ways. It's a positive sign for Yoongi, who smiles at him and mutters against his mouth, “You're so obedient, so good.”
Jimin knows he is. He knows that he would obey anything as long as he's allowed to come in the end, as long as that makes Yoongi and Namjoon happy. If he isn't allowed to finish - and it wouldn’t be the first time - it's because he didn't behave well, and he won't let that happen. So he hurries up to get on four, not asking any more questions because he doesn't care about who will fuck him; he just needs to be filled, he needs that cock ring off, and he needs it now.
He moans when Yoongi takes him from behind with one slick movement that rubs against his prostate. That nearly kicks him down, and Namjoon, who is observing them, openly laughs at him. Heat floods Jimin's cheeks, but he doesn't know if it's from pleasure or embarrassment. Maybe it's both, maybe it's the fact that despite being the first time Yoongi fucks him, he can drive him mad with just one thrust. It comes from experience, and Yoongi pours all his experience on him without even trying.
On the other hand, Namjoon doesn’t forget about him. He settles in front of him and holds Jimin’s chin to guide him up to his cock. Again, it’s harder to suck Namjoon’s dick, since he’s bigger, and despite the time they have been together, Jimin is only able to open his mouth to take his dick. There isn’t any way he can suck Namjoon’s dick while getting rammed from behind, but he tries. It’s not a problem, because Namjoon takes the issue in his hands, using Jimin’s mouth to pleasure himself, like he has done a thousand times.
He’s not as rough as Yoongi, yet that doesn’t mean that he treats Jimin carefully. But Jimin loves it. He loves that Namjoon fucks his mouth without considering anything else, that he takes advantage of his position and the fact that Jimin is stuck between Yoongi’s hands.
“I love seeing you cry,” he groans. It hasn’t taken long to make his tears overflow again, since Yoongi already destroyed all his strength beforehand, and Namjoon has it easy for once. “You look so pretty.”
Jimin feels his own dick tightening, the ring constraining him, and cries out loud when Yoongi touches his prostate once more. The knot in his groin grows bigger, harder to handle, and Namjoon’s compliment breaks him enough for him not to care. When tears cascade down his cheeks again, he isn’t the least surprised.
“That’s my boy,” Namjoon whispers, pleased.
“Shit, I want to see him too,” Yoongi complains, and Jimin catches the glance Namjoon sends him, as though both of them share a secret that Jimin ignores. “Put him on you.”
Jimin notices the change in the atmosphere, the exact moment where all the dynamics he tried to set up - giving Namjoon the power over Yoongi - disappear to leave room for the true Namjoon and Yoongi.
Between the two of them, it’s Yoongi who rules. He must have always been, except he was a guest in their house and he had to consider Jimin’s wishes as well. Now that he’s under their power, Yoongi can change the plans however he prefers.
Namjoon follows his orders without questioning him and grabs Jimin by the waist to hoist him up. Yoongi pulls out and slaps his thigh, as to reward him, but he doesn’t give any explanation of what they’re doing. Namjoon and Yoongi work without the need to talk.
Jimin finds himself being dragged to Namjoon’s lap, but this time he’s not facing him. Namjoon makes him sink on his dick, back against his chest, and brings both of them against the bed. It’s an odd position to move up and down, and indeed Namjoon doesn’t start thrusting right away. Instead he encircles Jimin’s thighs and brings them apart, leaving him completely to Yoongi’s mercy.
That’s the first signal for Jimin. The second is the way Yoongi approaches him, the way Yoongi’s eyes roam all over his body and make him feel both desired and insignificant.
“Hey, babe,” Yoongi calls him, slanting forward to inspect his face. A smirk blooms on his lips, and it’s definitely the worst one Jimin has seen so far. Though Jimin’s instinct is infallible and he detects that he’s in danger, the next thing Yoongi says is unimaginable for him. “Have you ever got fucked by two people at the same time?”
Jimin can’t help it: he releases a small gasp of surprise that dissolves into in a moan. He should have predicted how this was going to end. Namjoon and he had never slept with someone else included in their equation, and Yoongi clearly has that information. It’s information that someone like him would never ignore. Someone like Yoongi always wants something new for himself, and Yoongi plans to take something from Jimin forever, plans to leave a footprint in Jimin’s life.
“Answer,” Yoongi demands him, frustrated by his silence.
“I-” Jimin begins, but the intensity of Yoongi’s stare wipes away his thoughts, and he has to try again. “I haven’t. I’m- I don’t know if I can.”
The fear in his voice amuses Yoongi terribly, that much Jimin can gather. He even feels Namjoon’s chest shake as well, but unlike Yoongi, his boyfriend presses a kiss on his nape to calm him down.
Yoongi breathes down his neck, and Jimin throws his head back with a sigh, surrendering to him. “Are you sure one is enough for you?” he insists, but it’s not a question. It’s not an option. Yoongi is playing with him. “Didn't you want both of us?”
Jimin has always fallen in traps much more easily than he should, though this time the trap was beyond his imagination. He can read it in Yoongi’s smile, the mocking, the proof of how they have toyed with him. Namjoon and Yoongi had probably discussed what they were going to do with him, step by step, even before Jimin had the chance to meet Yoongi.
A shiver travels down Jimin’s spine, because he isn’t allowed to lie, and there is only a correct answer. He croaks out a scared, “Yes.”
Yoongi presses a kiss on his lips, and then on his jaw, on his neck, on his chest. He touches down Jimin’s chest and stomach, and Jimin’s body clenches under his touch, reacting to anything and everything Yoongi does to him. It’s a small way of rewarding him for not refusing him his pleasure, for having enough courage.
“You’ll love it,” Yoongi assures him.
Jimin breathes heavily, overwhelmed even if Yoongi hasn’t moved yet. Yoongi fixes his eyes on him, a careful stare that doesn’t coincide with his movements, as he presses the head of his dick against Jimin’s ass. Namjoon moans under them, feeling Yoongi’s cock brushing his, and Jimin takes a deep breath. It’s not going to fit, is all he can think, even if Yoongi isn’t pushing inside of him yet.
Namjoon’s dick fills him completely, so when Yoongi forces himself inside Jimin, the three of them groan. It’s just a bit, as to test the waters, but Jimin sinks his nails in Yoongi’s chest, pain shooting through him.
“You’re doing great, babe,” Yoongi soothes him, yet his own eyes are closed, the pressure around his dick unbearable. “Hold up a little more.”
Jimin wishes he could follow that simple rule, but after a few seconds Yoongi thrusts inside him slowly but without stop. It’s too much, too much, and Jimin has to clasp a hand over his mouth not to scream.
“Holy shit,” Namjoon grumbles, so loud that Jimin’s whining gets drowned. And then he moans, “Yoongi.”
Hearing another man’s name on Namjoon’s lips should feel wrong, yet it doesn’t. Jimin feels like he’s about to break, yet it’s an emotional and physical pain that he enjoys. Yoongi hurts him and makes Namjoon feel pleasure at the same time, and Jimin feels dizzy at the amount of sensations in his body. Namjoon and Yoongi inside him, Namjoon moaning under him, Yoongi kissing his neck.
“Your boy likes that, aren’t you proud of yourself?” Yoongi tells Jimin. He’s right. Namjoon is proud of him, and Jimin mumbles a yes between tears, because there isn’t anything better than that. “Taking both of us so nicely.”
Yoongi begins to grow a pace, slowly stretching Jimin. Namjoon is as responsive as him at the brush of Yoongi’s dick, and he strengthens his arms around Jimin’s torso, helping him to take every thrust. Yoongi observes him with intent every time, bathes in the reactions he provokes in Jimin, fists his dick to drive him even madder.
It’s too much for Jimin, but he can’t do anything about it. He feels ripped apart, broken, both Yoongi and Namjoon moving inside him and against each other. The amount of moaning from Yoongi and Namjoon don’t even let him hear himself, but he knows that he’s panting, crying, begging, and Yoongi is the only one that can drown his cries with kisses.
An obscure smile is the only warning before Yoongi takes the cock ring off. All the contained tension pours through Jimin, a wave that sweeps him along, and he doesn’t need Yoongi to fuck him harder to come right away. His cock pulses as soon as he’s free from the ring, and neither Yoongi and Namjoon have to touch his dick to finish him off. He doesn’t know for how long he loses his sight, white invading everything around, but Yoongi is fucking deeper into him and Namjoon’s hands are clenching around him. Jimin can’t descend from his high, not when they keep thrusting inside him; it extends in time, until his oversensitiviness brings him to the verge of tears once again.
His heart beats so fast that his blood blocks his ears, yet he knows the exact moment that Namjoon and Yoongi come inside him. Someone sets him back on the bed, though he can’t tell who is handling him, and Jimin stays quiet for a while, trying to breathe again. His whole body pulses. An attempt to open his mouth and say something, while half-conscious, makes Yoongi laugh.
“Be calm,” Yoongi tells him. His palm lands on Jimin’s hair, and his touch is different this time. He caresses him over all the zones that hurt after the great amount of hair pulling, but the slight pain still gives Jimin joy. Jimin recognizes that it’s Yoongi who is touching him, and that’s the only touch he feels. “You did so well. Namjoon is very satisfied with you. And I am too.”
Jimin sighs in contentment, and Yoongi laughs at him again. Jimin doesn’t mind; in fact, Yoongi’s laughter results comforting. While they wait for Namjoon, Yoongi lies next to him, talks to him even if he’s aware that Jimin can’t properly focus after all the tension is gone. That only tells Jimin that he’s on good hands, first because Namjoon trusts him enough to leave them alone after sex - albeit it’s only a few minutes - and second because Yoongi keeps him awake without trouble.
When Namjoon comes back, he joins them in bed and kisses Jimin’s shoulder blade. It’s then when Jimin knows he’s allowed to sleep, rocked by their hushed voices, Namjoon’s arms around him.
“You’ll have to recover before we can do this again,” Namjoon shushes him when Jimin tries to talk to him. However, Namjoon spoils him and squeezes him against his body, knowing that Jimin wants to latch against his chest and be cuddled to sleep. But then Namjoon says something that makes Jimin’s heart burst, his nerves trembles, excitement regaining its strength and invading his whole being. “You might convince Yoongi to stay here, after all.”