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Stand By Me

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Jungkook isn’t a religious man, but the existence of free online pornography is almost enough to have him believing in a higher power. The first time he ventures into the world of filth and depravity that his friends gleefully assure him is just a naver search away, he resurfaces several hours later, right arm stiff and his brain blooming with questions and ideas and above all a powerful urge to discover just how deep the rabbit hole goes.

Of course, his brother takes a screenshot of his internet history as blackmail material, and before too long Jungkook finds himself standing sheepishly in front of his parents trying to convince them that at his age it’s only natural to be curious. He gets himself grounded for two weeks whilst his parents impose tighter restrictions on his internet access and gets to laugh at his brother’s fury when his plan backfires on them both.

Fast forward two years and fourteen year old curiosity has become something of an obsession. Jungkook finds himself making up increasingly elaborate excuses to spend ten minutes alone with his laptop and staying up into the wee small hours of the morning skimming through page after page of what is essentially the same three scenarios played out with varying degrees of acting ability and competence with a camera, looking for something to send his blood rushing hot and giddy through his veins.

He’s careful of course, or at least he thinks he is – going to bed half an hour earlier than the others and downloading videos to his phone where possible in order to slip them into the bathroom when it’s his turn to shower, but evidently not quite careful enough.

“You know, if you keep it up you’re right arm’s gonna be twice the size of your left,” Yoongi mutters into his ear when he returns from what he hopes was an inconspicuously long bathroom break. There’s an indulgent smirk on Yoongi’s face but Jungkook’s cheeks flare red enough for Hoseok to feel compelled check his forehead for a fever and he decides that there has to be a better way to go about jerking off.

Not two days later, the perfect opportunity presents itself.

“If your alarm is gonna wake us all up every fucking morning at the crack of dawn then you can sleep in the living room,” Namjoon announces at bedtime, hauling Jungkook’s mattress out of the dorm, “you want to dance? Fine! But don’t go dragging the rest of us down with you.”

If Jungkook were a shade meaner he’d say something about Namjoon being in more need of the extra practice than him, but he can already see the advantages of having a room of his own and so he bows his head like a scolded child and agrees with the leader as meekly as he can manage.

Namjoon’s eyes narrow, “I better not hear a peep out of you tonight young man or there will be hell to pay.”

“Young man?” Seokjin cackles from the kitchen, “What are you - his dad?”

“Give it a rest mum,” Jungkook’s grin is short-circuited by the cuff Namjoon delivers to the back of his head.

“That’s mum hyeong to you.”




The living room arrangement works out rather well for everyone. Jungkook’s alarm goes off out of earshot of the rest of the group and he discovers that if he shoves his fist into his mouth at just the right angle he can stop himself making any awkward noises when he jerks off. He has to keep the sound turned low in his earphones, partly because of Taehyung’s hyper sensitive ears, partly because he refuses to be caught unawares with his dick in his hand (literally) if anyone comes through to go to the bathroom, but it’s a hell of a lot better than biting his tongue as he pretends to shower twice a day.

For three weeks, Jungkook enjoys the wonders of unrushed and uninhibited masturbation. And then…

“What are you doing?” Jungkook stares appalled at the bed Jimin is laying out for himself on the living room floor, “this is my space, this is my room, you can’t just-”

“Jungkookie,” Jimin grins, “this room belongs to everyone.”

Jungkook glowers down at him, “not at night it doesn’t.”

Jimin ignores him and goes back to arranging his sheets to his personal high standards, whistling a Girl's Day medley as he goes.

“Are you guys having a sleepover?” Hoseok peeks out from the main bedroom with an impossibly huge smile threatening to split his face in two.

Jimin nods. “I want to start waking up earlier to get in a couple more hours at the gym. I figured Kookie was already up at the crack of dawn so I might as well join him and spare you guys the alarm.”

“So thoughtful!” Hoseok squeals. Jungkook has no idea if he’s being serious or taking the piss, “but don’t go working yourself too hard Jimin; you’re doing so much already.”

Jimin shrugs him off good naturedly and settles himself down on his bed. Jungkook is still very much of the opinion that he is a bedroom intruder and therefore fair grounds for a well-placed kick to the ribs, but under the watchful eye of Hoseok he’s unable to do more than move his mattress to it’s usual spot in the middle of the room.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he tells Jimin with as much venom in his voice as he can muster when he goes to turn out the lights.

And either his venom is thoroughly impotent or Jimin is immune, because the “goodnight Jungkookie,” he received in return is nothing but good natured.




To Jungkook’s horror, Jimin decides that sleeping in the living room works marvellously for him and within two days the term ‘living room’ gets scrapped in favour of ‘Jimin and Jungkook’s room’ by everyone from the cleaners to Hobeom.

“Why does it have to be ‘Jimin and Jungkook’s room’? It should be ‘Jungkook and Jimin’s room’. I was there first.”

“No one cares,” Seokjin says brightly as he gathers their bowls after dinner.

No one else says anything, though Jungkook feels that the matter is far from settled. He sulks the rest of the evening away, only emerging from his hoodie to yell at Yoongi for calling him a moody teenager.




He’s not sure if their schedule has become more full than ever before of if he’s just grown too accustomed to his own space, but finding time for a wank becomes nigh on impossible once Jimin takes up permanent residence in the living room. On the first night Jungkook deals with it, the second night he fights the temptation to slip off to the bathroom once Jimin is asleep, the third night he glares daggers into the older boy’s head for hours until he finally passes out sometime after midnight.

The fourth night, Jungkook dreams about a pretty trainee in a variety of compromising positions and wakes up pre-emptively blushing at the thought that he might have woken Jimin. This, he decides, is ridiculous; but when he tries jacking off in the shower like he knows everyone else does, the lack of visual pornographic aid brings him up short and he’s left with a boner that refuses to go away for half an hour.

It gets to the point that Jungkook serious debates telling Jimin to fuck off so he can touch himself in peace, but fate conspires to make things a little easier on him than that.




Two weeks into Jimin’s occupation of what was once Jungkook’s space, Jungkook wakes in the middle of the night. He groans internally when he sees the clock – why oh why must he wake up at such a god-awful hour? He doesn’t need to piss, he’s not hungry, he’s not ill. The flat is silent and yet Jungkook is losing precious minutes of sleep.

Except the flat isn’t quiet. Not completely. As Jungkook’s frustration with his wakefulness drags him ever further form the land of nod, he registers Jimin’s light, frantic breaths. Carefully, Jungkook turns his head to see the shoulders of the figure in the next bed jerking rapidly, Jimin curled around something emitting a light bright enough to illuminate half the room.

Jungkook nearly chokes on thin air, “what are you doing?”

Jimin moves like a blur, slamming the lid of his laptop and straightening his back like he hasn’t just been caught red handed, “nothing maknae. Go back to sleep.”


“Don’t use that language with me.”

“What were you watching?”

Reaching across Jimin before he can be stopped, Jungkook grabs the laptop and pulls it open, deaf to Jimin’s muttered protests that Jungkook is too young and that there’s really nothing interesting to see anyway.

“I watch porn you idiot you’re not gonna surprise me,” Jungkook bats Jimin’s hands away and waits for the video to appear back onscreen.

There are two girls – western, white, blonde – frozen as one penetrates the other with a large electric blue dildo.

Jungkook gulps, “woah…”

“Ok you’ve seen it, now give it back-“

“Can we watch the rest?” Jungkook wishes he could vanish in a puff of embarrassment, but he can’t deny that the idea of watching porn with Jimin is more interesting than not watching porn at all. Next to him, Jimin is tense, lips pursed and brow furrowed into the expression he only wears when he’s working out if someone’s good idea is worth the risk.

For thirty seconds, Jungkook waits for him to make up his mind. Then he gets impatient, shoves one of Jimin’s headphones into his ear and presses play.

The sweet sounds of vibrating sex toys and overenthusiastic moans are heavenly, even as a counterpoint to Jimin’s alarmed squawk. The girl getting fucked shrieks outrageously loudly as she bounces on the dildo, large breasts mesmerising as they jiggle in time with her thrusts. The girl on the bottom whines and keens along with her, as if watching someone fuck themselves on a large plastic phallus is as much fun as actual sex.

(Jungkook’s experience with ‘actual sex’ is fairly limited, but he can’t imagine that watching is half as much fun as doing)

“Jungkook,” Jimin hisses into his unoccupied ear, “this stuff is really…you’re too young to be looking at it.”

Jungkook doesn’t even look up from the screen, “my brother used to leave his dirty magazines lying around his room, I’ve known what sex since I was ten.”

Jimin shudders, “I’m so glad I have a sister,” he reaches for the second headphone, “girls don’t watch porn.”

Jungkook lets out a bark of laughter, “sure they do, your sister’s just smart enough not to leave it where you’re gonna find it.”

“My mum always told me that girls weren’t interested in that kind of thing,”

“Well then she lied to you,”

“Name one girl you’ve ever known to watch porn.”

“Kang Eunji,” Jungkook smirks as Jimn put the name to a face,

“That pretty trainee? When did she tell you that?”

“Last week, right before she tossed me off.”

Jimin’s eyes pop, “Jeon Jungkook!”

“Keep it down.”

“You can’t do that kind of thing with trainees…”

“Why not? We used to do it all the time.”

Jimin’s opens his mouth to speak but before he can get a word in Jungkook has turned up the volume on the computer and the sounds of sex drown out whatever boring lecture Jimin was about to give. The girls have switched positions, so that the one riding the dildo has her head between the other's legs. Namjoon says that ninety nine percent of the girls going down on each other in the porn industry aren’t actually queer and that he can’t stand the fakeness of it all – Jungkook thinks he’s just being self-righteous and pretentious because, fake or not, the sounds the women are making shoot straight to his dick.

Evidently they have the same effect on Jimin.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook’s fingers find the pause button faster than he would have thought possible. Next to him, Jimin has a hand down the front of his boxers and in the glare from the computer screen the head of his dick is easily visible, pressing obscenely against the fabric,

Jimin blinks, “what does it look like I’m doing?”

“I’m sitting right here what the fuck?”

“Well what else do you expect me to do?” Jimin reaches over to unpause the video and Jungkook tries to ignore the moment that he starts jerking himself off again, “don’t tell me you were expecting us to sit around watching porn together like it’s Disney. You interrupted me mid-wank. I have work to finish.”

Jungkook can feel the burn in his cheeks as he turns his attention back to the girls, trying to ignore the laboured breathing and quiet grunts that Jimin makes next to him. It works for all of thirty seconds before his dick twitches violently in response to a particularly convincing moan from the girl getting eaten out and he figures that if Jimin can jack off in front of him, then he can jack off in front of Jimin.

He’s certain that the noise he makes when his fingers first wrap around his dick is unfathomably embarrassing but he can’t quite manage to care. He finds his rhythm, the same as ever, a prearranged flight plan perfect for getting off as quickly as possible. It all ends when the girl who’s been fucking the dildo for the past twenty minutes lets out a final drawn out moan to indicate her orgasm and Jungkook doubles over his hand as he comes, grimacing as his head clears at the unpleasant sensation of semen stuck inside his tracksuit bottoms.

“Gross,” he mutters, turning to Jimin and quickly wishing he hadn’t. The older boy’s eyes are screwed tight shut even though the video is still paying (the dildo has changed hands and the second girl is apparently very pleased about this) and his hand is working a mile a minute over his cock. Jungkook finches away but it’s already too late, Jimin comes with a deep, guttural moan and he’s going to have to pretend that he doesn’t know what his hyeong looks like when he climaxes for the rest of his life.

Jimin’s eyes open slowly, “what are you looking at?” then they grow wide with shock, “you weren’t….were you watching me?”

“NO!” Jungkook shrieks loud enough for him to worry that he’s woken the others, “no I just-“

“Because if you were…”

“I wasn’t.”

Jimin looks wary, “ok.”

“I wasn’t watching you wank.”

There’s a drawn out moment of awkward silence before Jimin reaches over to close the laptop and crashes back onto his bed, “I’m really tired,” he mumbles, “night Kookie.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, just runs off to the bathroom to clean himself up. By the time he gets back Jimin is snoring happily.




Jungkook doesn’t mean to turn it into a regular occurrence, but after the first night it’s surprisingly easy to ask Jimin if he has any videos he wants to share. More than not, they pass the evenings hunched over a laptop watching ever more outrageous pornographic content and trying to pretend that they don’t know the other is jerking off next to them.

Thinking about it in the harsh light of day, Jungkook has to admit that the idea of two guys masturbating together sound equal parts gay and desperate, but when he dares to mention it to Jimin the other boy shrugs it off. “Hoseok hyeong and Seokjin hyeong do this all the time and they both have girlfriends. It’s just stress relief.”

Stress relief. Wanking is good for him. Jungkook likes the sound of that.

Typically the videos they watch are old favourites that they’re only too happy to revisit. Jungkook likes big boobs and close up shorts and Jimin doesn’t care as long as someone’s getting penetrated. There are a few nights where they go wandering the backwaters of the internet in an attempt to outdo each other with how depraved and disgusting a kink they can find, but after Jungkook accidentally clicks on a video of a woman being mounted by a dog they both agree to stick to what they know.

It turns out that Jimin knows more than Jungkook.

“This one’s a little different, I hope that doesn’t bother you,” he mutters as he clicks through the astonishingly huge number of videos he has sitting in secret folders on his laptop.

Jungkook shrugs, “different’s ok. There’s no animals in it right?”

Jimin makes a face, “no. God no, I’m never doing that again.”

He finds the video he’s been looking for and settles back on Jungkook’s mattress, hand pre-emptively falling to his crotch. Two guys wander into the scene (a large bed that Jungkook’s sure boasts linen far too expensive to fuck on) and set about getting themselves hard.

Jungkook leans back and waits for the girl to show up. Honestly he’s never been particularly interested in knowing what the guy’s dick is doing in any of the porn he watches, the idea that you’re supposed to imagine that it’s your dick turning the girl into a mewling wreck never made much sense to him. He sticks to girls-only scenarios as far as possible and ignores Namjoon’s extensive lectures about how poorly female sex workers are treated and the fetishisation of queer women. It probably marks him out as a shitty human being but when he’s coming over images of women with their tongues and fingers all over each other’s pussies he can’t bring himself to care.

After two minutes of waiting, watching two guys touch themselves from opposite ends of the bed, Jungkook starts to get suspicious.


“Just give it a chance, you might like it.”

Jungkook stares dumbly at the screen as his suspicions are confirmed. The two men crawl up onto the bed and start kissing each other, tongues clashing luridly as their hands begin to wander across bodies well-toned bodies. In theory it’s the same basic principle as every other pornographic video he’s ever watched, there are naked bodies and overexcited moaning and yet…

And yet Jungkook’s just not feeling it. For five minutes he tries to stroke his cock into action but when one of the guys is flipped over and his co-star begins to fuck him up the arse he gives up. He stares at the screen, bewildered as the two men move against each other, hearing the slap of skin on skin and the increasingly urgent cries of satisfaction that continue until the guy on top gives a final shout and goes tense.

Next to Jungkook, Jimin’s body goes still and he lets out a dangerously loud groan as he comes. Jungkook doesn’t know what to make of it.

Jimin closes the laptop in silence, quickly climbing into his own bed before Jungkook can ask him…well before Jungkook can ask him anything. The blob in Jimin’s bed turns its back to Jungkook and goes unnaturally still, Jungkook has no idea what he’s afraid of.


No answer, but Jungkook knows he’s listening.

“Jimin are…are you gay?”

Jimin rolls over and glares hard at Jungkook, “of course I’m not gay.”

“Then why are you watching gay porn?”

“Because I like it.”

“That sounds pretty gay to me.”

Jimin’s eyes are barely visible in the dark, but Jungkook can see a dangerous glint cross them all the same, “you’re an idiot, go to sleep,” Jimin snaps. And that is the end of that.




The next night they return to the kind of videos that Jungkook feels more comfortable with, tales of a world where every women is smoking hot and irresistibly attractive to every other member of her sex. Jimin doesn’t mention gay porn again and he certainly doesn’t propose that they watch any but Jungkook swears he’s quieter than before and less amicable when they’re finished and ready to sleep.

No matter how little either of them has to say on the matter, Jungkook finds that the image of two guys fucking is surprisingly hard to shift from his mind. It’s not distracting per se, and it doesn’t leave him awkwardly horny when it crosses his mind in public, as the memory of so many of his and Jimin’s videos does. He’s surprised to find he doesn’t even think the memory particularly disgusting, it’s the idea of why a person would want to do that in the first place that confuses him – he can’t for the life of him imagine why having a dick up his arse would be a remotely pleasant experience, even if he did feel the urge to fool around with guys.

“Yoongi hyeong,” Jungkook asks one evening after working up the courage to take him aside, “do you…um…can you tell me anything about like…sex with guys?”

He realises how he must sound a second too late. Yoongi peers up at him with shining eyes and babbles off a series of mortifying well wishes and promises that he won’t tell anyone before he gets anywhere near the idea of sex,

“I’m not gay, hyeong,” Jungkook grumbles once Yoongi has finished off an eye opening description of the kind of work that needs to be carried out before a penis can even begin to penetrate an arsehole and moves on to directing him towards support groups for queer Korean teens.

Yoongi smiles sadly at him, “it’s ok Jungkook, I support you no matter who you choose to love.”

After that Yoongi starts getting uncomfortably clingy when he’s drunk, and Jungkook wishes he’d just used naver.




“I found something new the other day, wanna see?” Jungkook whispers as he passes Jimin a headphone. Jimin shrugs, he’s not picky enough to ever question Jungkook’s tastes. They’ve been camping out on the living room floor together for the best part of two months and they’ve both come to the end of their stash of favourites. They've tried rewatching a couple of videos that had proved particularly successful on first viewing but it’s not so exciting the second time around and Jungkook is well aware that they’re getting very close to Jimin proposing that they try out another instalment from his gay porn stash.

Jungkook isn’t quite ready to go there again, but he thinks his pick of the evening represents a rather substantial step forward.

Jimin hums in surprise as the protagonists of the video are made clear. The story is fairy clichéd – some guy letting his ‘best friend’ fuck his ‘wife’ but it’s only too easy to look at the video description to see that it’s not just the girl who’s going to be getting fucked.

“This is gonna have gay stuff in it you know?” Jimin hisses, his hand already on his dick as the woman starts to suck off the first guy.

Jungkook nods slowly, “yeah…”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

He has to think about that for a second, “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

Jimin looks unconvinced, “ok.”

The video doesn’t progress beyond oral sex for a long time. Jungkook finds that he’s no more indifferent to the image of a guy sucking off another guy than he is when it’s a girl giving the head but he still prefers the closeups of the girl’s pussy as she fingers herself to any of the dick sucking going on.

Everything’s still fine as the girl moves to mount one of the guys, Jimin moaning weakly as the camera zooms in to show the head of his dick pushing past her labia and into her cunt. Jungkook’s hard, his hand moving slowly over his cock, well aware that the video has a long way to go. Even as the second guy leans in to plant messy kisses along the first's collarbones everything’s ok, everything’s fine.

Until they switch positions. The second guy reaches for a bottle of lubrication on the nightstand and Jungkook can feel his boner die even as the woman wails about how good it feels to have a dick inside her.

Before long the three of them are all fucking and Jungkook’s hand is static on his softening dick. He just doesn’t get it, he doesn’t understand the way Jimin’s voice cracks and his stuttering moans increase in volume as the sex progresses. It’s not disgusting but it’s definitely off-putting seeing a guy get fucked up the arse and really, all Jungkook can feel is irritation that this particular corner of base pleasure is so alien to him.

Jungkook steals a glance at Jimin, bottom lips caught between his teeth and his hand moving quickly below his boxers. He must be close, close enough for him to not care that Jungkook is now definitely staring, close enough to not care that the head of his dick is peaking out above his pants.

Jungkook takes a long, shuddering breath and has a terrible idea.


Jimin stops abruptly and stares at him, confused at out of breath, “can you wait like two minutes, I’m kind of busy here,” he grumbles

There’s a lump of tension forming in Jungkook’s throat and he can barely believe that he’s about to say what he’s about to say, “Um…I was wondering if I could do it…maybe.”

Jimin looks more confused than even, “do what?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and slides his hand over Jimin’s thigh. His pulse races as his fingers make contact with the base of Jimin’s dick, hard and foreign beneath his fingers, “this.”

Jimin’s eyes fall back to the video where the guys are swapping places and the woman is shifting up the bed so that the man on the bottom can eat her out. He pulls down his boxers and Jungkook has to suppress a squeak as his dick pops free, bobbing happily between his legs,

“Knock yourself out.”

It’s easier to touch Jimin when he’s not looking at Jimin, Jungkook decides. The dick in his hands is familiar enough in principle but at the same time it couldn’t be more different from his own, it’s thicker and shorter and its owner mumbles obscenities into his shoulder every time he runs a thumb across the head. More from the thrill of sexual contact than any innate attraction to Jimin, Jungkook feels himself getting hard again as Jimin’s panting becomes more urgent.

“C’mere,” Jungkook mutters, grabbing Jimin’s hand and guiding it to his own dick. Jimin doesn’t hesitate or pull away, just pushes Jungkook’s tracksuit bottoms down for easier access and wraps his small hands around him. The skill with which Jimin jerks him off feels practiced and confident and Jungkook is almost tempted to ask him who else he’s done this with, but at the same time the idea of actually knowing feels like too much, like he’d be crossing boundaries they’re barely staying inside as it is.

Jimin comes with an exaggerated sigh that shoots straight to Jungkook’s dick. When he surfaces from his own orgasm there’s someone else’s semen on his hand and Jimin is still slumped against him.

Jungkook makes a face, semen is definitely gross.

“What was that for?” Jimin mumbles sleepily into his neck, his breath tickles,

“I dunno. I wanted to try it out, see what all the fuss was about.”

“Did you like it?”


Jimin smiles, “we can do it again sometime if you like.”

Jungkook feels his face flush as he kills the power on his laptop, “err…sure, maybe.”

“Only if you want to,” Jimin sighs, flopping on top of his duvet and pulling his pillow closer.

Jungkook’s not sure if he does, but he knows that he likes Jimin’s hand a lot more than he likes gay porn.




They do wind up doing it again, they wind up doing it a lot. With their eyes placed firmly on the people in the pornography they watch, Jimin and Jungkook wind up jerking each other off more often than they jerk off themselves. Jungkook rationalises it as another person’s hand feeling better than his own and leaves it at that, never daring to turn around to look at Jimin as he comes for fear of seeing too much and shattering the illusion.

He’s not entirely sure what illusion is there to be shattered, but he’s not willing to test it to find out.

But even without looking at each other, Jungkook learns that Jimin likes his balls being played with before he’s jacked off and that there’s a particular spot where the tip of his dick meets the shaft that’s too sensitive to touch post orgasm. Jungkook’s not keeping track but if he were he’s sure he’d find that Jimin comes faster and faster every time they get each other off.

The weird thing is, much as Jungkook’s eyes stay fixed on the girls and guys in the videos, he’s barely paying attention to them anymore. The noises that the women make begin to sound forced and phony and their expressions less eager and more weary. To begin with, he thinks he’s just becoming immune to what he now sees as the lacklustre standards of bad pornography, but then he catches himself wondering what Jimin would say if he proposed they scrapped the video and just jacked each other off and he thinks he may have gotten himself in a little too deep.

“Thanks Kookie,” Jimin murmurs sleepily as they lie slumped against each other’s shoulders with the video still blaring in their ears and far from over.

Jungkook hums and pulls out his earbud, he’s has more than enough of bad sex noises for one evening.

Jimin sits up and moves to go back to his bed, but Jungkook stops him, lays a hand on his arm and pulls him back. Jimin stares at him blankly, waiting, like he knows exactly what Jungkook wants.

“It’s ok,” Jimin whispers.

Jungkook nods, “I know.”

He’s not sure who initiates the kiss, but Jungkook likes the feel of Jimin’s lips against his own, however fleeting it may be.




After that they have schedules carrying them overseas to Japan and beyond. The seven of them share hotel rooms across South East Asia, share buses on unfamiliar highways and share cabins on overpriced planes. There isn’t any time for any of them to break away from the main group and their collective nerves begin to shatter after the second week.

Jungkook and Jimin are bandmates during the day and bandmates during the night, there are no super-secret porn viewings and a whole lot more screaming at the complacent mass of his hyeongs, trying to persuade them that he deserves a bed as much as any of them.

“Sorry kid,” Namjoon says throwing him a blanket, “but maknaes sleep on the floor.” Jungkook points out that Namjoon doesn’t sound particularly sorry at all and finds himself sleeping on the balcony that night.




For most of the trip, Jimin gives no indication that Jungkook is any different from the rest of the group. He shouts at, laughs with and ignores them all in equal measure and Jungkook begins to doubt his memory, begins to wonder if he didn’t dream the pressure of soft lips on his as his pulse raced. For a whole two days he wonders if the entire communal pornography viewing scenario wasn’t some figment of his imagination, but then Thailand happens.

There’s a pool in the hotel that they’re staying in, and though Hobeom says they’re only supposed to use it when there’s a manager on hand to prevent them from drowning (apparently idols can’t swim), none of them pay him much attention. Jungkook enjoys the quiet of the pool at two in the morning when the rest of the hotel guests are out partying or sound asleep, he swims lengths and stares up at stars that he knows are nigh on identical to the ones he can’t see in Seoul and wonders at how alien they look.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Jungkook looks up to see Jimin sitting on the edge of the pool in his pyjamas, feet dangling into the water and smiling like an idiot

Jungkook rolls his eyes, what are you doing up so late?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Jimin keeps on smiling. Jungkook can feel his cheeks colour as he swims over.

“What did you wanna talk about?” Jungkook lets his hand find Jimin’s shin, rubbing circles into the taunt muscles lying just below the skin. Jimin doesn’t shift away, doesn’t even flinch.

“I dunno just…things,” Jimin pauses, “whatever you want to talk about.”

There are a million things that Jungkook wants to talk about, some of them things he knows he needs to say and the rest mindless small talk that he doesn’t quite know where to start with. He takes a deep breath and lets his hand slide further up Jimin’s leg.

By the time the sun peaks over the horizon Jungkook hasn’t begun to say half the things he needs to and he thinks he might just drown in Jimin’s indulgent smile.




The lights go out in the living room and Jungkook shuffles back to his bed. The others stopped talking half an hour ago and he can hear Seokjin’s quiet snores and Namjoon’s less quiet snores through the door. Bedtime, definitely, everyone’s shattered from their increasingly all-consuming schedule.

They’ve been back in Seoul for a week and Jungkook has yet to hear more than a slurred, “g’night” from Jimin when bedtime comes round. It’s ok, they still fall asleep holding hands and wake up frantically pulling apart hoping that no one’s seen them, but Jungkook’s searching for some affirmation that the situation as he sees it is indeed the situation as it stands. For the time being he can blame Jimin’s exhaustion on a new workout regime that Jungkook thinks looks strenuous enough to take out an elephant, but at the same time he’s desperate to touch him.

Jungkook takes a moment to appreciate the fact that he is now actively daydreaming about touching another guy’s dick, and then reaches out for Jimin’s hand.

“Hey,” Jimin mumbles

“Hey, Jungkook replies, too quick, too eager. Jimin chuckles into his pillow,


Jungkook rolls off his mattress and into Jimin’s bed. He pulls up the covers and wraps himself around the older boy, feeling hard muscles and broad shoulders beneath his fingertips as Jimin’s own hands reach under his night shirt to tease trace his abs and pull him close enough for their lips to touch.

They’re making out properly faster than Jungkook was expecting, too eager to be close for either of them to take it slow. Their teeth clash and their tongues move sloppily against each other, wet and overexcited and exactly what Jungkook has been waiting for. Jimin’s breath is hot and heavy against his cheek and his hands can’t stay still for more than a few seconds, flitting across Jungkook’s body finding sensitive spots to tease and manipulate, moving on before anything can come of it.

They roll over, lips still firmly locked together so that Jimin is straddling Jungkook’s waist, their dicks rapidly hardening under their insubstantial nightwear as he fiddles with the hemline of Jimin’s shorts. From this angle Jimin feels so much smaller, like he could comfortably curl up on Jungkook’s chest – adorable and content and-

Jungkook feels a satisfaction that has nothing to do with his arousal blossom from his solar plexus. The thought of Jimin being happy is…well it’s nice.

Jimin pulls back abruptly, just far enough for their eyes to meet, “Jungkook this isn’t…this isn’t too gay for you, right?”

Jungkook can’t help but laugh, “Jimin, how many times have I touched your dick already? It’s fine, I like it. I…I like you,” he feels a familiar blush creep across his cheeks and sort of wants to hit Jimin for the expression of self-satisfaction now gracing his face.

“You wanna hear a secret Kookie,” Jimin whispers as his hands come to rest on Jungkook’s hips, “I like you too,” and then he’s pulling Jungkook out of his tracksuit bottoms as Jungkook reaches forward to pull Jimin out of his boxers.

It’s odd, seeing their dicks lying next to each other like that, with a jolt Jungkook remembers that much as he knows what Jimin’s dick feels like he’s barely ever looked at it and even now, with the room too dark too make out the details it looks new and exciting. Jungkook can’t understand why he ever found the sight off-putting.

Jimin reaches down and takes both of the two of them between his tiny hands. Jungkook gasps at the contact, feels both of their cocks twitch violently as they touch each other. He’s not sure what it is about Jimin’s dick that feels so much better than his hand but as Jimin leans forward, rubs the heads together smearing precum between them, Jungkook has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from shouting.

After a few minutes uncontrolled grinding against each other they find a rhythm, or at least Jimin does. His hands wrapped firmly around the both of them he jerks them off slowly, as if they have all the time in the world. From this angle there’s little Jungkook can do, he moves his hips as best he can, shallow thrusts rubbing his dick against Jimin’s whose advantageous position allows his hips to snap forward into the space between his fingers so much more easily. Its good though, it’s so good, Jungkook feels heat coil in his belly slowly but surely, building by the second, till he knows the only reason he hasn’t come yet is because he’s trying so very hard not to.

“Are you close,” Jimin mutters. His breathing is growing more erratic by the second and his fringe is sticking to his forehead with the sweat.

Jungkook nods, surprised by the high pitched keening noise he makes when he tries to open his mouth to answer properly. He reaches down between then to wrap a hand around one of Jimin’s, to run his thumb along both their slits, certain that the noises they’re making are going to wake the others but unable to bring himself to care.

In the end Jungkook comes first, just. He can feel Jimin smearing his semen between them as he keeps jerking them both off, sending Jungkook reeling through the aftershocks of his orgasm and leaving him moments from pushing the older boy away because it’s too much and he’s been left too sensitive. But then he feels the head of Jimin’s dick swell as he comes with a chocked cry, leaving a sticky white mess trailing from Jungkook’s groin to his navel.

Jimin climbs off Jungkook and crashes next to him, “sorry,”

“For what?” Jungkook can feel their semen drying on his stomach and his tshirt and he knows that if he doesn’t clean up now he’s going to regret it in the morning, but sleep is already threatening to drag him under and the warm weight of Jimin as he slides up next to him makes it ever more unlikely that he’s actually going to bother.

“For making a mess,” Jimin sounds quiet and far off. Jungkook smiles and realises that his eyes have fallen closed.

“We both made a mess.”

“I’ll help you clean it off if you like.”


“In the morning.”


“In the shower.”

Jungkook throws an arm around Jimin’s middle and pulls him close, “sounds like a plan. But I’m sorta…I need…”

He’s asleep before he can get the words out. When he wakes in the morning, Jimin will be pressed uncomfortably close, breathing into the crook of his neck, drooling on his shoulder; and Jungkook will declare it the best night’s sleep he’s had in months.