This is their sixth date.
Sixth. In two and a half weeks.
Clearly, Jeongguk is a gentleman – a very, very respectful gentleman.
“Look at the size of this fridge, Jimin-hyung! We could fit, like, twenty whole turkeys in this behemoth!”
Today, they are at IKEA.
It had been Jeongguk’s idea, and Jimin can’t deny that he had been a bit turned off by the idea at first (that’s a lie – he hasn’t been turned off by a single thing that Jeongguk has said or done since the day they met). As the day has progressed, however, Jimin has found it to be an eccentrically charming date.
They’ve spent the better part of two whole hours just roaming the top floor of the enormous store, flitting between rooms and ogling the setups. Each intricately decorated display had been thoroughly critiqued, down to the tiniest details – Jeongguk lamenting the fact that they used a charcoal gray lamp instead of an ashen gray one, Jimin applauding the creative use of string lighting over a headboard to give the room a pop of youth.
It’s genuinely been the most cozy, fun date yet.
Presently, they’re pretending to be a newlywed couple, fresh out of their honeymoon and eager to drop fat chunks of gifted wedding money on furnishings for their “new love nest” – Jeongguk’s words, not Jimin’s.
“Honey, I’ve told you a thousand times: stainless steel simply won’t go with the marble counters we’ve chosen, it’ll have to be black.” Jimin faux-admonishes, shaking his head and tutting under his breath.
Jeongguk – the golden boy actor that he is – shoots Jimin a stupidly dazzling smile, closing the double doors of the fridge and rushing back over to stand before Jimin. He takes both of the elder’s hands in his own, squeezing them for emphasis. “You’re absolutely right, my dove, how could I have forgotten? I know your mother will appreciate the color scheme we’re going for, she always was one for monochrome, wasn’t she?” He chuckles, gently knocking his forehead against Jimin’s for a beat before stepping away.
Jimin feels his heart kickboxing against his sternum, beating in double-time whenever Jeongguk gets that close to him. He really doesn’t know what to do with himself.
They make their way to the next display, a master bedroom with a warm, gray palette. The atmosphere is homey, intimate, and a bit masculine, dim lights scattered about and a few plants added to give it a touch of life. The bed is spacious and ornate, covered in lovely throws and pillows. Jeongguk appraises it for a moment before having a seat at the foot of it, bouncing softly and letting his eyes continue to roam around the rest of the room.
Jimin watches him from the entrance, a bit shell-shocked by how handsome the man before him is. With such little effort, he could picture the two of them actually dwelling in this room – could imagine Jeongguk returning a bit later than him from a day at work, achy and grumbly but still so charming, swooping in for a kiss before anything else. He can visualize the warmth in Jeongguk’s eyes when he makes his way to the closet, carefully hanging his clothes and chatting over his shoulder about his day in the office. He can hear the deep chuckle from the man as he sits beside Jimin on that big bed, fingers intertwined and smiles soft as they simply bask in each other’s presence.
He can also picture, clear as day, what it would be like to have Jeongguk shoving his face into the center of that mattress as he fucks into him from behind, so hard and so deep that he has to call out of his imaginary job the next day.
Alas, the waking world is nowhere near as filthy as Jimin’s mind, and the real Jeongguk is still sitting there, squeezing his long fingers into the memory foam mattress and humming to himself at its buoyancy.
Yes – six dates in, and Jimin’s ass is still woefully intact.
Jeongguk the gentleman has been plenty touchy with Jimin, but not in any way shape or form that would heal his steadily-growing blue balls. He has held Jimin’s hand tenderly and tightly, locking their fingers together and dragging him around in his excitement. He has hugged him at the end of each date, wrapping his strong arms around Jimin’s waist and occasionally lifting him from the ground, squeezing him that much tighter midair until Jimin squeals and wiggles his legs, demanding to be put down. He has, of course, kissed Jimin, plenty of times now – what started out with adorable pecks on date #1 turned to heart-warming smooches by date #3, then grew to whole-body embraces accompanied by leisurely lip locking two nights ago on date #5.
If they kept going at the rate they were on, Jimin wouldn’t get his ass eaten until date # 34. He’d done the math. And that was simply unacceptable.
Here’s the thing: Jimin knows for a fact that Jeongguk doesn’t make a habit out of abstinence. He has confirmed this time and time again with several mutual friends, all assuring him (as Jeongguk himself often did, before they started dating exclusively) that the boy was notorious for “getting his dick wet on the reg”. He went through occasional dry spells, of course, but was an otherwise healthy, sexually-active university zombie like the rest of them.
And yet, not one single advance towards Jimin has been made, in all their six dates. No double entendres, no wandering hands or stray, southbound glances, no form of flirtation that went beyond first-base in any way.
Jimin had toyed with the idea that Jeongguk wasn’t interested in being intimate with him, but that had lasted all of ten seconds before he was forcefully reminded by Taehyung of all the times Jeongguk had openly pined over Jimin’s ass before the two of them got together. Admittedly, the youngest of their group had never been subtle with his “Jimin thirst”, as the group dubbed it, but now was his time to finally quench said thirst and he hadn’t even tried to taste a single drop.
Jimin was a patient man – slow to temper, likely to think first and act later – but his patience was by no means infinite. He was a man with needs, and these needs were most often comprised of Jeon Jeongguk bending him over and having his way with him. Maybe with a sprinkle of spanking and a dash of bondage thrown in, if the recipe called for it.
It wasn’t so much to ask for, in Jimin’s professional opinion.
So, he’d made up his mind before meeting Jeongguk at the Swedish mall: he’d decided that tonight would be the night. Even if they didn’t make it to full-on copulation, Jimin was going to get his ass played with if it was the last thing he accomplished on this rotten earth.
Jeongguk finally stands from the plush mattress, making his way towards the tags hanging at the entrance of the room to get a ballpark on the price. His eyebrows shoot up at the numbers, whistling under his breath before turning around to see Jimin closer than he realized.
“Mmm, honey, that mattress is perfect, don’tcha think?” Jimin purrs, resting his chin on Jeongguk’s shoulder and tilting his head coquettishly. His eyes gloss over the price tag, lingering on the words beneath it. “Even its name is kind of… sexy.” Jimin pronounces his words slowly, deliberately, leaving his thick lips opened just a bit at the end as he eagerly awaits Jeongguk’s response.
The younger brings his hand up to grip his own chin in thought, pursing his lips and furrowing his brows as he rereads the tag. He seems unacceptably immune to Jimin’s charms, huffing out a breath through his nose without sparing Jimin a single glance.
“I dunno, my dove. What’s so sexy about…” he squints, getting a bit closer to the tag and jostling Jimin off his shoulder in the process. “Meistervik’?” He finally turns to meet Jimin’s eyes, face betraying no ulterior teasing – at least none that Jimin can detect. “I think I’ve heard of an anime that sounds like that before. Is that what you were thinking of? Was it a sexy anime?”
Jimin just sighs, backing away from Jeongguk with a murmured ‘yeah, that was it’ and dejectedly makes his way to the façade bathroom.
He stands before the mirror, appreciating the ample lighting and the glow it lends to his face. He cocks his head to and fro, ensuring his tinted chapstick didn’t need any touchups, and bares his teeth to check for any stray leftovers from their Swedish meatball lunch. Just as he finishes, a pair of hands slide their way across his stomach, closing in on him from both sides. Before he knows it, he’s enveloped in the embrace he’s grown so familiar with, so addicted to.
Jeongguk mimics his position from mere moments ago, perching his chin on Jimin’s left shoulder and meeting his eyes through the mirror. They both smile gently, appreciating the domestic view of a backhug in a perfectly decorated master bathroom.
“Doesn’t this remind you of our honeymoon, darling?” Jeongguk inquires, nuzzling his nose into Jimin’s temple in an endearingly innocent gesture. Jimin can’t help the chuckle that bubbles out of him.
“Oh absolutely, muffin. Though, I distinctly recall there being fewer strangers in our private hotel room…” At this Jeongguk giggles, smothering the sound in the side of Jimin’s cheek. Feeling brave and incredibly pent-up, Jimin pushes on. “…and far less clothing on both of us.”
Jeongguk’s giggles melt down into a lazy smile, his eyes trailing over to meet Jimin’s once more through the mirror.
Had he done it? Had he cracked the code, pierced Jeongguk’s armor? (Or his chastity belt – whichever was keeping him from pushing Jimin up against this sink right this very moment.)
Jeongguk laughs faintly, pulling his head away from Jimin’s and squeezing his hands on Jimin’s tummy once before speaking. “That Meister-whatever anime really got you going, huh Jimin-hyung? You should send me the link some time, I’ll add it to my list.”
And with that, he exits the bathroom, leaving a painfully irate Jimin behind with a rapidly wilting boner, right in the middle of the IKEA showroom.
This would be more challenging than Jimin had anticipated.
He angrily waddles back out to the bedroom, finding Jeongguk already making his way towards a new room nearby. He cracks his knuckles, pops his neck while he’s at it, and stalks off towards his date.
By the time he catches up, Jeongguk is already leaned over a gorgeous white dresser, taking a look at the knickknacks lining the top of it. He hardly even notices Jimin approaching him, letting out a little hum to acknowledge his presence without looking away from the vases and sculptures.
This lack of attention on top of the failed advances are not boding well for Jimin’s patience.
He shuffles up beside Jeongguk, intentionally elbowing him in the ribs and hip-checking him several inches over. Jeongguk notices the sudden display of aggression and grins, moving to stand behind Jimin once more, an echo of their position from the bathroom. There’s no mirror in front of them this time, but Jeongguk still closes in on Jimin like a predator, caging him in on all sides and letting his forearms rest on the top of the vanity, completely sandwiching Jimin between himself and the dresser.
Jimin stills, blood running hot as he recognizes how trapped he is, how he’s completely at Jeongguk’s mercy. Like this, in the corner of a tiny display room, Jeongguk is free to grind up against Jimin and hold him still, force him to take the teasing and render him unable to fight back. Anyone could join them in the display room, could bear witness to Jeongguk holding him captive, and the realization only makes Jimin’s heart thump faster.
Jeongguk brings his lips to Jimin’s ear, chuckling darkly against it and inadvertently blowing puffs of warm air right against the shell. Jimin can’t fight the shivers that rack him, goosebumps trickling down his spine at the sensation.
“My dove, what’s gotten you so feisty, hm?” Jeongguk leans back just a smidge, enough to appraise the hooded eyes and parted lips that his date is currently sporting. “Excited over all the lovely furniture we’re going to pick out for our new home?”
Jimin quivers just a bit, ducking his head away from Jeongguk’s prying eyes, trying to decide if the right move would be to rub his ass back against Jeongguk’s crotch or not. Should he go for docile-submissive or bratty-power bottom? Some combination of the two?
Taking Jimin’s silence as a response, Jeongguk crushes his arms inward and squeezes the older boy with all his might, wrapping him up like a snake and rocking him back and forth in the embrace. Jimin startles, yelping as he’s squished back against Jeongguk’s chest, unable to ignore the lack of a bulge prodding him in that moment. He grumbles under his breath.
Jeongguk laughs blissfully at the reaction, shaking off the teasing, predatorial demeanor and reverting back to his carefree dork mode, releasing Jimin and dusting imaginary dirt off his shoulders for him.
Jimin turns slowly to face him, eyes unimpressed and lips plumped out in a pout. This only makes Jeongguk giggle harder, convinced he’s poking fun at Jimin for getting too invested in their newlywed game and completely ignorant to the fact that his date was ten seconds away from dropping to his knees and presenting himself like some show dog right there on the fake living room floor.
He doesn’t, but it’s the thought that counts.
They cruise through several more rooms after that, managing to bring the conversation back to a lively debate on laminate versus tile as they enter the dining room/kitchen section once more.
Jeongguk holds up different sets of fine china, sighing in exaggerated disappointment every time Jimin shakes his head ‘no’, whining that they’ll never find the perfect shade of tea green for their cutlery. Jimin wishes he was more petty, wishes he could hold himself off from laughing at all of Jeongguk’s shenanigans as he brews in his angsty horniness, but he is a slave to the will of his giggles – Jeongguk’s stupid, funny, and cute, the deadliest combination.
They idle in front of the salt and pepper shakers, poking around to find the gaudiest accessories to add to their dream kitchen.
Jimin smirks, eyeing an old-fashioned pepper grinder with a notably phallic shape – rounded head, slim base, slight flare at the bottom for grip. It’s even colored a lovely tan, sending Jimin’s brain off into a dangerous detour – what shade of pink would Jeongguk’s tip be? Would he be darker, wider, would his veins be more prominent? He wonders how much more obvious he could get, standing there drooling over a goddamned pepper shaker, wonders if it would even yield any results.
Might as well find out.
“Say, Jeonggukie sweetie, what do you think about this one?” Jimin singsongs, beckoning his date over and wiping the smirk off his face before Jeongguk could see. The younger stands beside him, eyeing the grinder and cocking his head. Jimin continues, doing his best to keep his face expressionless, “Something about this one really just… calls to me. I think it’s perfect.”
Jeongguk grabs the item from Jimin’s hands, turning it this way and that, humming as he assesses it. After a solid beat, he casts his judgement, “Nah, this would never work, darling. It isn’t even dishwasher safe. Who’d clean it after each use? Me? Absolutely not, no sir.” And with that, he sets the grinder back onto the shelf and strides away from Jimin, completely missing the aghast face on the poor, dick-hungry elder.
This pattern continues onward: Jimin finding commonplace household items that could double as kinky substitutes, waggling his eyebrows a bit at Jeongguk, asking him for his opinion on them and throwing a few innuendos in for good measure. Jeongguk responds similarly for all of them, turning his nose up and declaring that said items sucked and that they’d have to look elsewhere. Only the best for the Jeon family, he’d say.
Jimin grows crankier and crankier with each shut-down, flabbergasted as to how he could even still manage to have a semblance of sexual attraction for this oaf of a boy, and yet whenever Jeongguk chuckles in that boyish way and lets his big hand idle on Jimin’s waist, Jimin swears he feels his balls throb.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
They take a break at the food court once more, this time splitting a slice of chocolate raspberry cake. They’re the epitome of the couple that everyone hates seeing in public: over-the-top giggles, lovesick eyes, the whole nine yards. Jimin doesn’t know how much of this behavior can be attributed to pretending to be married, and quite frankly, he doesn’t care. This is the most action he’s gotten in weeks.
Jeongguk loads up another forkful of cake, lifting it before Jimin’s mouth and cooing at him, “Say ‘ahhh’ my dove!” He smiles, equal parts mirthful and overjoyed when Jimin acquiesces, parting his lips to receive the treat.
Jimin’s eyes darken as he closes his mouth around the cake, fat lips pooling out against the fork. He stares Jeongguk down, watching as the younger flits his own gaze between Jimin’s lips and his eyes, entranced by the sight before him.
Jimin hums out a moan around the mouthful, sucking the dessert further into his mouth without relinquishing his hold on the fork. Jeongguk continues to hold onto the utensil, looking just a tad bit dumbstruck as the seconds keep ticking by and Jimin refuses to let go.
The elder finally lets his lips slide off the metal, chewing the cake and swallowing it quickly. Before Jeongguk can come back to his senses and pull his hand back, however, Jimin whips his own hand up to grab onto Jeongguk’s wrist, keeping the fork hovering before his mouth. Waiting for Jeongguk’s eyes to drag up and meet his own, Jimin slowly tilts forward. He opens his lips further this time and sticks his tongue out, letting the tip of it slowly drag across the prongs of the fork to scoop up the leftover chocolate. His eyes don’t leave Jeongguk’s for a moment and the silence between them is electrifying. He drags sinful kitten licks over the fork, continuing even long after the cake has been cleaned off.
Jimin was absolutely in his element, putting on such a decadent performance. His ass will thank him for the efforts.
He finally lets the curtain fall, easing up his hold on Jeongguk’s wrist and leaning back in his seat, smacking his lips loudly and leaving the ball in Jeongguk’s court.
The younger slowly brings the fork back to the plate, setting it down and dropping his gaze to the remaining chunks of cake. Jimin looks off to the side, grinning to himself, tickled pink with satisfaction. He’d finally goaded a reaction out of the idiot, even if that reaction was charged silence. He’d take it.
Jeongguk clears his throat, immediately bringing Jimin’s attention back to him. He looks up from under his lashes, suddenly more bashful than he’d been all evening. Jimin’s heart quakes.
Jimin nods, barely perceptible, leaning forward subconsciously.
Jeongguk lifts his head fully, meeting his gaze head-on once more. He looks frighteningly handsome – all boyish charm wrapped up in sharp edges and wide eyes, danger evident in the piercing stare he adopts in serious moments like this. He looks like he could devour Jimin whole, savor him the way Jimin had savored that cake, gobble him up piece by piece until there was nothing left. Jimin wonders if Jeongguk has any idea how painfully hard he is right now, blooming under that heated stare.
“You missed a spot.”
Jimin blinks, aching to see what Jeongguk would do. He stays still.
Jeongguk leans over the table, lifting himself from his chair and bringing one hand down to support himself on the table. He closes in on Jimin, faces inches apart, eyes locked on one another. Jimin swears he feels his hole clench of its own volition, and honestly, he doesn’t blame it. Jeongguk looks lethal, this proximity only serving as kindling for the fire raging in Jimin’s heart (and pants).
Jimin’s eyelids flutter a bit as Jeongguk draws even nearer, anticipating the kiss to come.
Instead of soft lips, however, Jimin feels the gentle drag of a wet cloth against the edge of his lower lip. His eyes spring open, locking onto the napkin being pulled away from his mouth. Jeongguk is still dangerously close, licking at the napkin once more before wiping under Jimin’s lips a second time.
Shell-shocked, Jimin lets it happen. His shoulders droop when Jeongguk pulls away completely, plopping back into his seat and folding the napkin on the table. He shoots Jimin the proudest, most adorable smile from across the table, eyes scrunched shut and nose crinkled with the force of it.
“What would you do without me, darling, hm? Walk around with chocolate all over that lovely face? Not on my watch!” He looks ridiculously satisfied with himself, still grinning as he sets to work devouring the remainder of the cake.
Jimin slumps further into his seat, dejected and petulant. The aftereffects of adrenaline are still pumping in his veins, his breath still a tiny bit shortened, the image of Jeongguk barreling over the table to get to Jimin all too vivid in his mind. The final wisps of his fantasy fade, leaving him ruefully aware of the reality he’s living in.
Jeongguk chomps away at the cake, still looking smug as can be.
He looks up at Jimin again, smiling, “You really are a messy eater, hyung. It’s cute.”
Jimin thumps his head down onto the table.
Time has flown and before either of them know it, the store is closing. Jimin is petty and reluctant to admit, but he had a fantastic night, even in spite of his failed seduction.
They’re walking back to Jeongguk’s car, giggling about the few candles and assorted trinkets they decided upon purchasing. Jimin is now the proud owner of a ‘komplement’ – a neat, hanging closet organizer that would soon hold his ties and necklaces. They’d shared a healthy fit of snickers upon finding it.
All in all, the date had been a remarkable success, even if Jimin was going home alone instead of getting his guts rearranged.
Jeongguk opens Jimin’s door for him, waiting until he’s comfortably situated in the seat before ducking in to leave a kiss on Jimin’s cheek. He pulls back with a soft smile, gently closing the door and rounding the front of the car to enter the driver’s side. Jimin feels the warmth of a blush ebbing under his skin and he chuckles in the quiet of the car.
Jeongguk was such a damned gentleman.
The car starts up and Jeongguk pulls out of the parking garage, eyes focused on the nighttime road as he begins navigating towards Jimin’s apartment complex. Jimin wishes the sight of a man driving wasn’t so cliched and attractive to him, but alas, woe is him.
Jeongguk had thrown his jacket into the back of the car, leaving him in a deliciously cut black shirt, scooped low onto his chest and clinging tight to the bulge of his biceps and shoulders. His collarbone is prominent, sharp in the harsh streetlights, shadows passing over his face lending him an air of mystery, of coiled danger.
Jimin swallows, resigning himself to his umpteenth erection of the evening, plagued with thoughts of 80 mile-per-hour blowjobs and backseat romping. He soaks in the sight of Jeongguk’s fingers gripping the steering wheel lazily, long and curled and lovely. Jeongguk would be so, so good at fingering – he plays so many damned video games, his manual dexterity must be through the roof. He could probably reduce Jimin to tears just with one of those hands. Jimin would love to find out.
Jeongguk laughs, rambling on about an elderly couple they’d bumped into on their way out, still cooing over the way the woman had pinched Jimin’s cheeks and exclaimed that he was “the sweetest dumpling she’d seen in all her years on this earth”.
Jimin does his best to listen, to absorb enough of what was being said to parrot back some acceptable response, but his brain was muddled and his body was so tired. So very tired.
“I swear, I’m gonna have to start calling you my little potsticker.” Jeongguk proclaims, nodding to himself, pleased with the nickname. Jimin stares on, half-registering the words, eyes glued to the way Jeongguk’s jaw dips in the moonlight.
“Or maybe my little wonton? No, wontons aren’t cute. Gnocchi? That’s the soup we got at Olive Garden last week, right? Those things were pretty cute…” Jeongguk prattles on, completely ignorant to the man undressing him with his eyes one foot to his right.
Jimin considers himself a patient man, but what is patience in the face of Jimin’s walking wet dream? Here Jeongguk was, goofing around with him for an entire evening, pretending to be his doting husband, ready to spoil him with anything and everything if he so demanded. He was mature yet silly, handsome and boyish, dedicated and kind – he was the man of Jimin’s dreams, both PG and XXX, and Jimin just wanted to be fucked into the next century by this hunky dweeb already. He asks for so little in this world.
They turn a corner and pull onto Jimin’s street, Jeongguk sliding into a vacant parking spot on the street with practiced ease. He cuts the engine and turns to Jimin, eyes soft and contrasting against the handsome, jagged edges of his face.
He looks at Jimin with nothing but fondness, eyes blatant in their adoration. He looks like a man in love.
Jimin exhales, eyes softening as he takes in the younger, reminding himself that he’s lucky just to have been asked out by this sweetheart in the first place. They’d been dancing around each other for eons, flirting in their own strange ways, obvious in their affections but shy to act upon them. Jeongguk had been the one to take the plunge, practically demanding that Jimin join him for a “mega romantic candlelit dinner” that left them both with a swarm of butterflies in their tummies and stoked embers in their hearts.
So what if he wasn’t getting dicked down tonight? Jeongguk was fantastic company, and he was truly the sweetest man that had ever tried to court Jimin. Chocolatey smooches and newlywed charades were the new standard of romance for Jimin, and he highly doubted that anyone else down the line could ever hope to hold a candle against these past few weeks.
“Thank you for coming out with me, Jimin-hyung. I had an amazing night, as always.” Jeongguk says, so earnest and so darling. Jimin reaches over to grab his hand, needing any form of touch that he could get. “I hope it wasn’t the lamest date of your life.”
Jimin laughs, pretty and loud, so damn fond. “Jeonggukie, if you can’t see that I had an amazing time tonight, then I think we need to make an appointment for your optometrist, because you’re definitely going blind.”
Jeongguk smiles a bit bashfully, linking their fingers and squeezing Jimin’s smaller hand. “I was just making sure! You got so grumbly after bringing up that anime.”
Jimin cocks an eyebrow, replaying the conversation in his mind. “What? No I did not!”
“Yes you did! If you were gonna get so embarrassed about hentai, why bring it up in the middle of a store? Silly hyung.” Jeongguk says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Jimin squints his eyes at him incredulously.
“Jeongguk-ah…” Jimin begins carefully, like he’s about to open a door and he already knows what’s behind it, knows he isn’t going to like what he sees. “You really thought I was talking about hentai? About anime porn?”
Jeongguk peers over at him, very much the epitome of a deer in headlights, lips pressed into a thin line.
Jimin steamrolls on. “Does that mean – oh my god, you were serious about me linking it to you? Adding it to your list? You have a hentai list?!” Jimin’s half-laughing, half-yelling at this point, a bit hysterical with how hilarious this is. Here Jeongguk is, prancing around, getting Jimin’s sex drive up to maximum levels, acting like a saintly boy who doesn’t know the definition of sodomy, yet also unintentionally admitting to owning a collection of hentai videos that he was eager to add to. This couldn’t get any better.
Jeongguk has the decency to blush as he defends himself, raising the hand still intertwined with Jimin’s and shaking it around for emphasis as he speaks. “Hyung! How dare you judge me! Let he who is free of sin cast the first fucking stone, you traitor!”
Jimin laughs until he can’t breathe, slapping his free hand against his thigh, blind as his cheeks squish his eyes into nonexistence. Jeongguk can do nothing but laugh alongside him, whipped as he is.
They calm down together, giggles mellowing out into thick exhales, hands still clasped together. Jimin wipes at his eyes, glancing over to see Jeongguk smiling lovingly down at their hands, eyes as soft as they’d been since they met up just a few hours ago.
Jimin really doesn’t want this night to end – whether that means penetration or platonic cuddling, Jimin doesn’t care. He just really doesn’t want to let go of Jeongguk’s hand, possibly ever. He’s heard about couples being buried holding hands. That could be them.
“Jimin-hyung, I have a favor to ask you.” Jeongguk breaks the silence, eyes still trained downward but the lingering traces of a smile still playing on his cheeks.
Jimin hums, leaning his cheek against the headrest, giving the other his undivided attention. No more thoughts of rimjobs or hickeys – it was officially soft hours.
Jeongguk peeks up, finds Jimin’s eyes, and settles there. He squeezes Jimin’s hand, almost like seeking strength from it. “It’s a really, really important favor.”
Jimin snorts, smiling lazily. “Anything for you, my sweet Jeonggukie.”
Jeongguk’s eyes light up, twinkling in the minimal lighting. “Anything at all?”
“What kind of a husband would I be if I said no to you, hm?”
“Very true, you’d be the worst kind of husband. I deserve the world.” Jeongguk grins as he evokes yet another bout of laughter from Jimin, chancing a glance down to their hands once more. “Then… then be my boyfriend. Officially.”
Jimin sobers up immediately, mouth parting in surprise, taking in the air of seriousness surrounding Jeongguk. He pauses a beat longer, still a bit stunned, before he drops into yet another fit of giggles, smooshing his face into the headrest and smothering the sound there.
Jeongguk frowns, worried that Jimin wasn’t appreciating the gravity of the situation, didn’t think he was being serious.
“Hyung! I bare my heart to you yet again, and this is what I get!” He whines.
Jimin turns his head to meet his gaze, laughter still trickling from his pretty lips. “That’s not a fucking favor, Jeongguk-ah. Do you even know what a favor is?”
Seeing the delighted sparkle in Jimin’s eyes and realizing he wasn’t being cruelly rejected, Jeongguk leans over the center console and glomps the elder, wrapping him in a hug and squeezing him so tight he could feel Jimin shaking with laughter against his chest. Jimin lets himself be engulfed, shaking his head in fondness and burrowing his face into the crook of Jeongguk’s neck. He saps up the younger’s scent, drinking it in like oxygen, having almost forgotten what this sort of proximity could feel like.
Jeongguk squeezes him a notch tighter, resting his chin on the top of Jimin’s skull and pouting at the window. “I’m not letting you go until you say yes to me properly. They don’t call me Ekans for nothing, hyung.”
Jimin smiles against Jeongguk’s skin, hoping the feeling of his lips was sending the younger’s heart racing. He deserved it after everything he’d put Jimin through these last few weeks. “Ekans, like the Pokemon? Why, because you’re a big, spooky snake?”
Jeongguk huffs. “Yes, the biggest, spookiest snake. And I’ll have you stuck in this Wrap attack until I hear what I wanna hear.” He flexes his arms at this, causing Jimin to squeal a bit.
“Oh, Jeonggukie!” Jimin begins theatrically, lilting his voice like he was proclaiming something to the gods instead of to his idiot boyfriend. “I do hereby decree that I, Park Jimin, shall be your most official boyfriend, from this day until the end of my days! In sight of men and gods, I do declare this to be!”
Jeongguk pulls back enough to squish his nose against Jimin’s, nuzzling him back-and-forth aggressively, brows still furrowed petulantly but a grin teasing at the edges of his mouth. Jimin returns the gesture, finding Jeongguk’s eyes and pouring every ounce of love into his stare as possible.
“Damn straight.” Jeongguk finally says. They both chuckle some more and Jeongguk tilts his head so that their foreheads connect, eyes crossing just a hair as they maintain eye contact.
They sigh together, relaxing in the embrace as Jimin finally worms his arms free and wraps them around Jeongguk’s neck. Their eyes both drift closed, the soft echoes of music still coming from the speakers around them, lulling them into sweet, simple tranquility.
Jeongguk breaks it first, keeping his eyes closed as he speaks, “Now that we’re officially boyfriends, wanna explain to me what – if not hentai – got you so freaking horny all day?”
Jimin’s eyes shoot open, staring up at Jeongguk’s smooth eyelids in shock, dumbstruck for the hundredth time.
Jeongguk leans back at the silence, eyes earnest and not the least bit teasing. He fucking knew.
“You knew?!” Jimin yelps, slapping a hand against Jeongguk’s chest and curling his face into the deepest pout he could manage. “You knew I was essentially fucking dying all day and you did nothing about it?! What kind of a boyfriend are you!”
Jeongguk laughs at the attacks, batting Jimin’s hands away from him and watching his adorable boyfriend implode in anger.
“In fact, you were my husband in that IKEA! What kind of husband are you?!” Jimin demands, giving up on his slap attacks in favor of crossing his arms across his chest, shoulders hunching up.
Jeongguk grins back at him, “The kind that respects my date, the kind that doesn’t jump into someone’s pants just because they’re cock-hungry.” Jimin flushes a bit at the words. “The kind that wanted to be proper boyfriends before taking that step.”
At this, Jimin relaxes his shoulders, pout softening but lips still pursed, eyes a bit more demure. “Well. We’re proper boyfriends now, aren’t we?”
Jeongguk smirks. Not the taunting, shit-eating kind he’d shot at Jimin a hundred times through the course of the day. No, this smirk was deadly, laced with intent and charged with dominance.
“That we are, hyung. That we are.”
And with that, Jimin pounces. He snakes his arms around Jeongguk’s shoulders and pulls him in, meeting in the middle over the console in their most heated kiss to date. There’s still some finesse to it but it’s plenty messy. Lips smack obscenely, the sounds bouncing around in the car, tongues already coming out to play. Jimin’s head is full of fuzz, the reality of the last few minutes not having quite caught up to him, but all he’s sure of is that he’s never letting Jeongguk out of his clutches. Jeongguk is his, his, his, and it was time he got his fix.
They part, panting against each other’s mouths, matching pairs of hooded eyes and glossy lips.
“I think you need to make it up to me.” Jimin’s voice is already a bit strained, just from some mild tonsil hockey, lord help him if he’s even able to speak tomorrow.
Jeongguk smirks some more, still a bit winded, and leaves a gentle kiss on the corner of Jimin’s lips. “Anything for you, my dove.”
Jimin melts, preening under the fake nickname turned real. “How are you going to earn my forgiveness, Jeonggukie?”
Jeongguk leans back into his seat, appraising the mess he’s already made of Jimin in such a short amount of time. He’d anticipated them taking a bit of time to get to this point, even once they were official, but if Jimin was in such a race to cross that finish line then who was Jeongguk to hold him back?
He chuckles darkly. “You know, I love it when you laugh, Jimin-hyung.”
Jimin wipes at his bottom lip, still dazed and slow to react. He blinks up at Jeongguk.
“Let me make you laugh some more, hm?”
Jimin gulps, turning his head softly from side to side, rolling his skull on the soft pillow.
It’s the most movement he’s able to make.
He blinks behind the blindfold, eyes still adjusting to the encompassing darkness, lashes dragging against the thick material.
He feels the last of the cuffs being fastened around his left ankle, hums as Jeongguk pulls the leg out further, tightening the other end of the restraint to the clips under his bed. When he’s finished, Jimin is rendered entirely immobile.
Jeongguk has him spread eagle on the bed, tied down to each corner and completely blind. He tests out the slack in each of his four limbs, finding there to be almost no give in any of them. He is able to jerk little more than a centimeter in any direction, otherwise anchored to the bed.
To Jeongguk’s credit, the quality of the material for the restraints and the blindfold is incredibly high. They’re comfortable, a lovely black satin, daunting and sexy all at once. Jimin had blushed the loveliest shade of pink when Jeongguk had first retrieved them from his closet, holding them out in his hands like some sort of offering. Jimin had run his fingers over the fabric, shuddering with excitement.
After another steamy round of kisses, Jeongguk had offered to drive them both back to his own apartment, loosely explaining that the “materials” he’d need were there. Jimin was dumb with arousal, nodding before Jeongguk had even finished speaking, working very diligently to not paw his boyfriend’s pants off as he was racing down the streets to get home.
Jeongguk had riled him up even further once they hit the bedroom, wet kisses melting around the corners and bleeding into primal touching. Clothes were shed quickly, patience long gone for them both, though Jeongguk still seemed aggravatingly composed when he pulled back to grin, explaining that he needed to get Jimin ready.
And here Jimin finds himself – spread bare and flush on Jeongguk’s bed like helpless prey, ripe and ready for the picking.
Jimin had reassured him countless times through the process that he was more than okay with this, whatever this was. Just the thought of being restrained, completely at Jeongguk’s mercy, had Jimin whining under his breath. He’d been right when he pegged Jeongguk for a possessive top.
Jeongguk steps back from the bed and appreciates the view. Jimin is stunning – a masterpiece of muscle, smooth skin, hard edges. Faint goosebumps have already begun breaking out across his skin, exposed as it is to the air, and his lips are perpetually opened to allow anxious little pants out. The satin blindfold and cuffs create a striking contrast against his fair skin, biting into the flesh just enough for him to feel true helplessness without marking him too deeply.
Jeongguk had done this once or twice. He knew what he was doing.
Jimin turns his head some more, subconsciously desperate to see despite knowing full well that Jeongguk had tied the blindfold skillfully enough for it to remain in place through plenty of squirming. He could hear the gentle whirring of the air conditioner from out in the living room clear as day, could make out the muffled sounds of a few lone cars driving down the street so late at night, but nothing else. Jeongguk is quiet as a shadow as he stalks around the bed, overt in his staring. Jimin is naturally made shy by the attention he knew he was receiving, but couldn’t find any part of himself that was bothered by it. He trusted Jeongguk with everything: mind, body, and spirit – especially body, at this particular moment.
Jeongguk cuts through the silence like a knife, “You’re beautiful, Jimin. A fucking work of art.” Jimin’s whine slips out unbidden, aching for Jeongguk so desperately already, tantalized by just a snippet of his voice.
Jeongguk is pleased by the reaction, feeling heady with power as he realizes how responsive his beautiful boyfriend is, how sweetly he’ll react to the torture that Jeongguk has prepared.
“One last time, Jimin – stoplights, okay? Green, yellow, red. Whenever you need them, whenever I ask to hear them.” Jimin nods frantically, having had the information drilled into his head so many times already.
Satisfied with the response, Jeongguk removes his own underwear, the final article of clothing falling into the pile at the foot of the bed. He moves over to Jimin’s right side, standing just beside the mattress, enchanted by the sight of Jimin’s bare chest moving up and down alongside his hastened breaths.
He makes sure his voice comes out dulcet smooth, like a gentle caress, as he leans in close to Jimin’s head. “You’ve got to relax, my beautiful dove. We haven’t even gotten started yet.” He brings one hand up and strokes the back of his knuckles across Jimin’s cheek, sadistically pleased as Jimin whips his head around to track the movement. Jeongguk then traces a finger over the edges of Jimin’s lips, feeling the slight trembles coming from them, loving the warm puffs of breath pouring out onto his palm.
“I’ve teased you for so long, hm? Made you wait like such a meanie.” Jimin nods at this, lips pursing out as Jeongguk’s finger leaves them. Jeongguk laughs. “My pretty boy. Let me make you feel good.”
Jimin senses Jeongguk’s presence leaving his side but can’t tell for the life of him where he goes. The carpet is too plush to give away any footsteps, the air conditioner blocking out the sound of his breathing unless it’s already upon Jimin. He’s truly a sitting duck, a slave to Jeongguk’s will, and the realization brings a fresh stab of arousal to his chest. He shivers in the silence, feeling a pool of warmth spreading around his groin as his imagination runs wild behind the blindfold.
Lips – thin lips kissing his right ankle. The first intimate touch since he’s been tied down. Jimin jostles at the sensation, helpless as Jeongguk slowly kisses up his right leg. He pauses for just a moment to suck on the meatiest part of his calf, teeth sinking in just a touch before he pulls back.
Jimin shakes as Jeongguk’s lips hit his thigh, butterfly kisses turning into suckling the higher he goes. He must be on the bed at this point, though Jimin is apparently too wound up to feel the dip in the memory foam. Jeongguk takes his time kissing around the area, having full access to the most tender areas of his inner thighs with how spread open Jimin is. Another rush of embarrassment laced with arousal pulses through Jimin.
Just as he’s kissing higher, almost reaching where Jimin’s ass cheeks spill out from under him, Jeongguk pulls back. Jimin whines unabashedly this time, though Jeongguk pays him no mind.
A solid beat passes and Jimin tremors in anticipation, until he feels those soft lips back on the exact same starting spot of his left ankle. He repeats the motions, spending the same amount of time on each area to mirror his right leg’s treatment. He’s painfully thorough, sucking blood up to the skin on all the same areas of the left thigh, nosing just as high up as before.
Jimin exhales shakily when Jeongguk finally kisses the flesh at the joint of his hips and thighs, such gentle sensations so near to where he needs it most.
Jeongguk pulls back once again, “Jimin, darling. Can you lift your hips for me?”
Jimin nods dumbly, aching for more touches, more kisses, more Jeongguk. He presses his shoulders into the mattress and arches up, lifting his pelvis completely. Jeongguk slides a thick pillow under his ass, patting his thigh to let him know he can relax. Jimin resettles on the pillow, wiggling for a moment and feeling another shudder of heat pass through him with how on-display he is. If he didn’t feel like a slab of meat ready to be devoured before, he certainly does now.
Jeongguk exhales with a soft groan at the view, eyes burning as they trail up and down the expanse of Jimin’s taut body.
“Fucking beautiful.” He mutters, though Jimin is sure he’d be able to hear any whisper Jeongguk lets out at this point with how hypersensitive his hearing has become.
Jimin jolts at the first touch against his hole, surprised that Jeongguk had bypassed everything else and gone straight for the prize, for the kill. He’d thought they’d be drawing this out more, but he absolutely could not complain.
The touch quickly registers in Jimin’s brain as wet, softer than the pads of Jeongguk’s fingers.
The air rushes out of his lungs as it all sinks in, Jeongguk’s tongue tracing delicate patterns around and over his hole. His lips leave occasional, feather-light kisses around the area, reverently pecking the tender skin. Jimin’s head rolls back, craning up towards the ceiling, muscles in his collar and neck pulled stiff as he hums.
Jeongguk licks into Jimin’s ass with ease, adoring the way Jimin unclenches and spasms all for him. He dips his tongue in and out, over and over, barely breaching at all with each push but teasing him just the same. By the time Jimin’s huffing out exhales that are sounding more and more like moans, Jeongguk picks things up. He seals his lips around the hole and sucks softly, letting go just to kiss the skin before repeating it. He continues this ebb and flow for a cruel amount of time, breaking the pattern to lick into Jimin for just a breath before suckling again.
Jimin shakes his head back and forth across the pillow, humming and whining, unsure if he wants Jeongguk to get on with it or never stop doing exactly what he’s doing right in this moment. He’s pretty sure he’s sprinting to heaven either way.
Jeongguk finally pulls away, leaving Jimin’s skin chilled to the air with how slick it’s become. Jimin’s chest is full-on heaving at this point, already so worked up and blissfully unaware of what Jeongguk still has in store for him. His lovely, helpless little dove.
Jimin tries to steady his breathing, now fully adjusted to the darkness and laser-focused on Jeongguk’s presence near him. It’s going to be a long night of this.
A finger dances around his entrance, slippery smooth and gliding with ease, coated in lube. The touch has Jimin wiggling his hips once more, but Jeongguk’s other hand comes up to grab a hipbone, firmly anchoring it to the pillow. The message is clear: stay still.
Jimin moans shamelessly as the finger slips into him, barely any resistance to be found but still such a lovely weight inside of him after aching to be filled all day long. Jimin was right about Jeongguk’s hands – these fingers were made to be up his ass. Even just the one is so long, so firm, teasing at his walls with such a delicious pressure. He pumps it in and out, shallowly at first before fucking it in to the knuckle on every thrust. While Jimin is distracted with the pace, he adds a second, his index finger joining in easily. Jimin hums at the stretch, having been so properly warmed up that the fingers are a relief at this point. Jeongguk keeps at it for a while with just the two, twisting them around and fucking them into Jimin with varying speeds, addicted to the way Jimin’s core clenches as he’s pleasured.
He begins jabbing his fingers faster, speeding up and up until Jimin is crying out loud, prostate being prodded on every thrust. Jeongguk’s other hand is still holding him down, thumb rubbing firm circles into the sensitive skin along his hipbone. He’s only able to lie there and take it, made to be fucked into and nothing more. He’s absolutely positive this is heaven.
As he feels his orgasm trickling up his limbs and towards his groin, Jeongguk stills his hand. Jimin had anticipated this, yet still finds himself crying out like a desperate slut, whining out staccato little ‘no, no, no’s as his climax fades back to the edges, out of reach once more.
Jeongguk swoops in to leave a firm kiss to his tummy, just below his belly button, as he retracts his fingers entirely. Jimin clenches and unclenches around the emptiness and Jeongguk saps up the sight of it.
The next pressure he feels against his entrance is firmer than any part of Jeongguk’s body, and Jimin’s hazy mind is slow to deduce the fact that it’s silicone pressing into him. The object is about as thick as Jeongguk’s two fingers, smoothly rounded and lubed up. Jimin gasps as it fucks into him slowly, and only once it’s fully seated is he able to feel how it flares along the top, settling snugly against his swollen prostate. The end of the toy has another bulbous protrusion, this one curved to sit up against his perineum and lightly graze his balls now that it’s completely inside him. He shudders, full-bodied and desperate, as Jeongguk removes his hand and lets Jimin adjust to the weight of the prostate massager.
Jeongguk sits back, addicted to the sight of the black silicone spilling out of Jimin, matching so nicely with his restraints and blindfold. He was like Jeongguk’s pretty little present, all wrapped up and ready for him.
Jimin squeezes around the toy, wriggling around now that Jeongguk had let him go, tense just from the feel of it plugging him up. No matter how satisfying the fullness is, Jimin finds himself pouting. He wants Jeongguk, hot and throbbing inside him, not this artificial length.
Jeongguk watches him squirm and frown, clearly loving the pressure inside himself but hating the lack of contact with Jeongguk. It was endearing, amusing even, and Jeongguk feels another bubble of sadistic satisfaction pop inside him. Time for the real fun.
Just as he’s considering himself fully adjusted to the feel of the massager inside him, it buzzes to life. He’d known it would at some point, but the vibrations still cause his hips to jump off the pillow, legs fighting against their bonds to try to close inward, all in vain. He twitches at the sensation, panting out loud as the head of the toy stays nestled in right where it’s meant to be. The sensitive skin around his balls pulses in time with the soft vibrations, a steady pattern of buzz, buzz, buzz, buuuuzzzzzz, repeating endlessly in- and outside of him. He knows the setting is low, meant to tantalize, to keep him on edge without giving him the traction to push over it, but it’s still delicious agony. Jeongguk could leave him here like this for as long as he wants, and Jimin would take it all. He has no choice.
A barely-there brush of skin against the sole of his left foot has him jumping once more, his whole left leg tensing in anticipation of a duplicate touch. When it doesn’t come, he relaxes just a bit, slowly sinking back into the mattress and refocusing on the steady vibrations inside him. His sense of security is short-lived as a mirrored touch traces up the sole of his right foot this time, slightly more definitive, enough to inform Jimin that Jeongguk was dragging the pad of his finger across his feet.
He tenses again, lips pulling into a tight line as he shivers, inadvertently clenching around the massager and driving it firmer against his prostate. He moans weakly at this, forcing himself to relax his muscles once more and sink back into the pillow.
Jeongguk drinks these reactions in, savors them like a fine wine, deciding there and then that he’d keep Jimin like this for as long as possible. He wants to see the boy cry before the night was through.
Jimin doesn’t brace himself in time, unsuspecting as Jeongguk’s index finger dances up the side of his ribcage. He strains to move away from it but is only able to jerk his torso a miniscule amount, Jeongguk’s finger easily following along. Jimin squeaks as the finger trails up to his underarm, leaving featherlight drags against the skin, pulling a panicked giggle from Jimin’s pretty lips.
Jeongguk was tickling him.
His skin erupts in goosebumps, chilled by the air but heated from his racing blood. The massager hums on incessantly inside him, milking his poor prostrate with every involuntary clench of Jimin’s abdominal muscles. His hole keeps sucking the toy in, tapered as it is to stay perfectly hilted inside of him.
Jeongguk smirks to himself, bringing three fingers up to the fleshiest part of Jimin’s tummy and dragging them up and down, from hip to hip, then back up again. Jimin’s core stiffens at the sensation, a pathetic chorus of hiccupped sobs, garbled moans, and hysterical giggles pouring out of his mouth like the most beautiful symphony Jeongguk had ever heard. He thrashes his head against the pillow, fists clenched pointlessly, toes curling and legs bowing with how rigid his muscles were going.
Jimin is so, so ticklish and Jeongguk knows this – this is cruel and unfair, a torture best suited to get Jimin more desperate than he ever thought possible.
Jeongguk moves back down to Jimin’s feet, this time blowing cool air against the sole of one while tickling the other with his fingers. He switches when Jimin’s whines crescendo, letting him calm down just long enough to fear that Jeongguk will move on to another spot on his body, before his poor feet are ambushed once more. He even darts his tongue out to lick a gentle stripe up the sole and Jimin positively shrieks at this, flexing his foot and arching his back off the mattress, hips barely lifting off the pillow.
The massager never lets up, the same pattern driving him to the edge of madness as he adds to his own misery every time he clamps down around it, an embarrassing puddle of precum already cooling on his tummy from where it’s been near constantly leaking from his untouched tip. Jeongguk is an expert – he never increases the intensity or alters the tempo, simply lets Jimin dictate his own torture by how well he controls himself against the onslaught of tickles.
Jimin’s sure he’s had at least two or three orgasms well up and collapse again within him, like a balloon filling and refilling, the pleasure enough to overstimulate him without bringing any true satisfaction, any form of release.
It’s the most delicious agony he’s ever felt in his life.
His skin feels like it’s burning, tingles racking his spine and every muscle in his body tensed for another attack. His eyes are squeezed shut behind the blindfold, legs shaking with how taut he’s holding them, fists shaking as another wave of pleasure washes over him without bringing any sort of climax in its wake. He feels like a bowstring pulled past its limits, on the verge of snapping.
Exactly how Jeongguk wants him.
For his grand finale, Jeongguk leans over Jimin fully, kneeling between his spread, trembling thighs. He takes a brief moment to appreciate the shuddering mess of a boy beneath him: cheeks burning pink, lithe muscles jumping underneath skin, his lovely, thick cock dribbling pathetically, bouncing every time he shakes and jolts.
Through it all, Jimin hasn’t uttered a single word of protest. He never once begged Jeongguk for mercy, never screamed out any form of objection. He just took it all, blubbering and feverish, but never outright complaining.
Jeongguk’s good boy.
His dark eyes bore into Jimin’s body, tongue slipping out to wet his lips. He brings both hands up and gently rakes his fingers down either side of Jimin’s torso, starting from the underarm and working his way down to hips, wiggling his fingers as he goes. Jimin bounces and squeals, hips jerking up a fraction before crashing back down, feeling the first tear slip out as Jeongguk repeats the process from the top. His prostate is throbbing at this point, desperate for relief from the sensations attacking it, hyper-stimulated every time his muscles contract.
Jeongguk keeps his fingers around Jimin’s waist after one last drag down, tickling the skin there mercilessly while he soaks up every pitiful sound that Jimin makes. He watches another dollop of precum ooze out of him, sees the way his chest seizes as his panicked laughs turn hysterical.
When he looks up and makes out the moisture blotting into parts of the blindfold, Jeongguk relents.
He remains kneeling between Jimin’s legs, bringing his hands down onto the mattress on either side of Jimin’s shoulders. His face hovers over Jimin’s, viciously pleased by the frantic pants pouring out of his lips and fanning out across Jeongguk’s mouth.
His Cheshire cat grin stretches across his face as he cocks his head, twistedly smug and ready to consume Jimin whole.
“Color, my dove?”
Jimin’s head jerks as he’s made aware of Jeongguk’s proximity to him, eyes blinking open behind the fabric.
Jeongguk sees the cogs in Jimin’s head attempting to turn, understands that he’s still catching his breath. He brings one hand up to gently cup Jimin’s neck, evoking a kneejerk jolt from the boy as his body instinctively jerks away from any contact. Jeongguk’s smile softens at this.
“Breathe for me, Jimin, breathe and tell me your color.”
Jimin nods, almost imperceptibly, forces a shaky inhale in through his nose before holding it in. On the exhale, he manages to get an unsteady ‘green’ out. Jeongguk rewards him with a gentle kiss on the cheek for his efforts.
Jimin does his best to relax himself, feeling more stimulated than he ever has in life, body like a livewire, a hive of nerves buzzing and braced for the next impact. While he’s trying to bring some semblance of awareness back to his foggy brain, the massager turns off, allowing his lower half to fully relax for the first time in what feels like hours. His exhales are heavy, relieved, thighs still twitching from the abuse. His shoulders slouch what little they can, the muscles in his limbs reluctant to follow suit, still tensed and ready for a surprise attack.
Jeongguk’s steady breaths register against his left temple just as he feels a slight dip in the mattress – the younger must be laying his head down beside Jimin’s, the rest of his body still hovering over Jimin’s prone form.
“Do you want to keep going, Jimin? Hm? Does that sound okay?”
Jimin’s cranes his neck, frantic to get his face lined up with Jeongguk’s, desperate for the feel of lips against his after all he’s been through. He’s still half-afraid Jeongguk’s going to tickle him again while his guard is lowered.
He finds himself nodding without putting any thought into it, unknowing and uncaring if Jeongguk means to keep going with this decadent torture or to keep going onward to the next course. Despite the fresh hell of forced pleasure he’s been made to endure, he wants nothing more than to stay here, captive and pliant for his boyfriend. He wants anything and everything that Jeongguk will give to him, will force him to take.
Jeongguk isn’t satisfied by the jerky head movement, letting his hand slide up to trace his fingers tenderly over the skin of Jimin’s cheek, puffy and pink from his exertions. “Talk to me, Jimin-hyung.”
There’s a droplet of anxiety in Jeongguk’s voice that Jimin wants gone. “Jeonggukie, I have a favor to ask you.” His voice is strained and thick, his first coherent sentence in a long while.
Jeongguk lifts his head from the mattress at this, eyes roaming Jimin’s face, lingering on the blindfold as though Jimin could see him, too.
“What is it, hyung?”
Jimin smiles softly, heavy breaths still coming out of his lips instead of his nose. “Kiss, Jeonggukie.”
Jeongguk’s eyes widen, the corner of his lips already pulling upward, baffled and endeared.
He kisses Jimin with all the tenderness he can muster, still passionate but soft, like a gentle sonata. Jimin’s lips are swollen and warm against Jeongguk’s, the kiss helping to reground him and bring awareness bleeding back into his body.
Jeongguk pulls back just a hair, looking down at Jimin lovingly, smitten beyond belief. Jimin’s smile mirrors his own.
Two thumbs push up from the apples of Jimin’s cheeks, lifting the blindfold and sliding it up to rest on Jimin’s forehead. He blinks at the sudden light, crunching his eyes shut before daring to try opening them again. He’d been more accustomed to the darkness than he realized.
His eyes focus on Jeongguk’s face immediately, lasering in on the fond grin. He blinks in a daze, more relieved than he anticipated at having his vision restored. Jeongguk leans down to leave another chaste, lingering kiss on his lips, obsessed with the way Jimin’s lips purse out to chase his every time he pulls away. Those chubby lips would be the death of him.
Jimin finally lets his gaze travel downward, soaking up the sight of Jeongguk’s bare chest like a dying man. His lips stay parted, tongue heavy in his mouth, as he looks lower and lower, realizing he’d yet to see Jeongguk fully naked before being blindfolded. He’s stunned into silence at how gorgeous the man above him is.
Jeongguk lifts himself up onto all fours to let Jimin get a better view, watching his reaction like a hawk, catching the sharp inhales and the hooded eyes.
“I’d like to keep going, Jeonggukie. I’d really like to keep going, if that’s okay.” Jimin breathes out, finally training his eyes back up to meet Jeongguk’s, feeling like those big, brown eyes could see straight through him.
“Anything for you, my dove.” Jeongguk leaves one last, lingering kiss to the side of Jimin’s mouth, this time sitting up on his haunches when he pulls back. “Anything in the world.”
Jimin watches as Jeongguk sets to work, crawling up towards his pinned wrists and loosening the restraints. “Let’s start by getting you out of these.” As soon as Jimin’s left arm is free, Jeongguk lifts it up to his lips, pecking it gently and nuzzling his nose against Jimin’s inner wrist. He scooches over and repeats the action with his right wrist, gently lowering it back down to the bed once he’s finished. A wave of affection washes over Jimin, shell-shocked at the difference in demeanor between this Jeongguk and the one mercilessly tickling him within half an inch of his life. He’s absolutely in love with them both.
Next comes Jimin’s ankles, each rubbed by Jeongguk’s firm thumbs and peppered with kisses once they’re freed. When he’s finished, Jimin languidly stretches his arms up above his head, legs locking as they stretch straight downward. He’s immediately reminded of the silicone toy still lodged up his ass, muscles tensing around it with his stretch, but the stimulation is nothing compared to the agony from mere moments ago.
He rolls his shoulders as he brings his arms down, legs curling up to his chest as he rocks over onto his side, balling up and hugging his limbs in tight. The massager jostles inside of him, curving to accommodate his change in position.
Jeongguk watches it all with honey dripping from his eyes, sat back to let his angel get comfortable. Jimin had been so good for him, now he looked like the cat who got the cream, despite the fact that neither of them had come – yet.
Jimin keeps his cheek against the pillow as he speaks, eyes rolled over to lazily find Jeongguk, “Jeongguk-ah? Can you take it out?” His lips pucker out at the end of his sentence, demure as all hell.
Jeongguk nods, humming lowly, before moving forward to lay behind Jimin in a loose spoon. He dips his head in to kiss and nip at the back of Jimin’s neck while his hand finds Jimin’s ass, two fingers pushing at the base of the silicone with a few brief pulses that cause Jimin to whine into the pillow. Jeongguk smothers his smirk into Jimin’s shoulder, sinking his teeth in slowly to the muscle there. Taking pity on his already strung-out darling, Jeongguk gently removes the toy, the silicone sliding out smoothly and leaving Jimin feeling empty for the first time all night.
Jeongguk tosses the toy off the bed and closes the gap between his and Jimin’s bodies, sidling up to him and wrapping his arms around his torso. Their legs intertwine naturally, like they’ve slept together in this exact position a thousand nights before.
He sighs, reveling in the tranquility of the moment, burrowing his face into Jimin’s hair.
He’s just beginning to lose himself to the peace of the moment when he hears mumbled grumbling coming from in front of him, Jimin’s caramel voice muffled and indecipherable.
He blinks his eyes open, quirking a brow as he asks, “What was that, hyung?”
A similar murmur comes in response, no more audible than before. Jeongguk drags his right hand up from Jimin’s tummy and pats around blindly at his head, feeling the way that 3/4th of Jimin’s lovely face is squished forward into the pillow, lips almost completely smothered.
Jeongguk chuckles against Jimin’s skull, nuzzling his nose into the soft strands some more. “That pillow must be a real good kisser.”
Jimin slaps at his hand in retaliation, finally lifting his face enough to speak clearly, “Fuck off, you’ve exhausted me.”
Jeongguk laughs some more, bringing his hand back down to squeeze Jimin tight against himself, “Mm, told you I’m an Ekans. Gonna keep you wrapped up like this until time stops.”
“Romantic, Jeonggukie. More like a rope bunny if you ask me.”
“Pretty sure that means I’d be the one who enjoys being tied up, hyung.”
Jimin shrugs his shoulders, “Only one way to find out.”
They both giggle softly, floating in an atmosphere that toes the line between intimacy and domesticity. Jimin shifts a bit in Jeongguk’s hold, backing up against Jeongguk’s groin intentionally.
“Is this what you had in mind when you asked if I wanted to keep going?”
“I had many things in mind. Still do, in fact.” Jeongguk drags the palm of his hand down to Jimin’s hipbone and down further still, letting his fingers dance across the skin of Jimin’s outer thigh. “Just wanted to give you a break if you needed one.”
Jimin huffs audibly. “You being Mr. Chivalrous is what got my horny ass so frustrated in the first place – all chaste and respectful, utter bullshit.”
Jeongguk laughs outright at this, slowly dragging his hand from Jimin’s outer thigh inwards. He pushes Jimin forward bodily at the same time, causing him to hitch his knee up to catch himself on the bed. Jeongguk grinds his hips against Jimin’s ass, letting his hand splay out across Jimin’s inner thigh, tantalizingly close but never quite touching where he’s most needed.
Jeongguk lifts his head to nip at Jimin’s earlobe, licking up the shell of it before leaving a soft kiss behind. “Then you tell me what you want, Jimin. I’ve had my fun. Tell me what your poor, horny ass needs.”
Jimin pushes his face back down into the pillow, flustered at how easily Jeongguk flits from fuzzy and dorky to unfairly sexy.
He rolls his hips up and back against Jeongguk, immensely pleased by the hardness he feels pushing against his cheeks. “I want the same damn thing I’ve wanted since day one, Jeonggukie. I want you to fuck me.” He wiggles his hips from side to side, letting his ass brush against Jeongguk agonizingly, fleetingly. “I don’t want to be able to take a single step tomorrow. I want you to fucking put it in me and I want you to do it now.”
Jeongguk chuckles darkly, tickled by how eager his angel was to be devastated. He promised he would give him anything, and so he shall.
“All you had to do was ask, Jimin-hyung, sheesh.” He squeezes at the fat of Jimin’s thigh, grinding his cock against him in the same fluid motion. “I’m all yours.”
He disentangles himself from Jimin and kneels behind him, bringing both his hands down to Jimin’s heavenly ass. He kneads the plump cheeks, occasionally raking his nails lightly down the skin, then switching to rhythmic squeezing. He’ll pull them apart just to catch sight of Jimin’s pink rim, stretched and ready for him.
Jimin hums and sighs under the ministrations, cheek resting on the pillow and lips perpetually opened to allow the lovely little sounds out. This is what his ass has deserved all along. Jeongguk’s complete and undevoted attention.
Jeongguk reluctantly lets go of one cheek to reach for the lube, feeling more and more ravenous the longer he plays with Jimin. He slicks himself up and covers three of his fingers in the liquid before abandoning the bottle, laying down to spoon Jimin once more. Jimin shuffles a bit to get fully comfortable, keeping his right leg hitched up and out to the side.
Three thick fingers are inside him before he knows it, the stretch nothing but pleasant after all he’d been through. Jimin exhales as they push in, already addicted to the feel of Jeongguk’s hands. He absently wonders if he can convince Jeongguk to take him back to IKEA sometime and finger him in one of the display rooms. Food for thought.
Jeongguk dips in to shower kisses on Jimin’s neck, intoxicated by the way Jimin’s ass sucks his fingers in, like he’s truly starving, aching to be filled by Jeongguk and Jeongguk alone.
He pulls his fingers out and grabs at Jimin’s hip, lining his cock up and dragging the head over Jimin’s hole, reveling in the wanton groan that slips from Jimin at just the temptation. Jimin truly was cock-hungry.
He pushes in just enough for the tip to breach, keeping a firm grip on Jimin and stopping him from rolling back to sheath the rest of his cock. “So eager.” Jeongguk taunts, thrusting in so, so shallowly. “Filthy little dove, just wants to be filled.”
Jimin moans unabashedly, too fixated on the weight in his ass to bother retorting.
Finally getting friction for the first time all evening, Jeongguk feels his restraints snapping, fucking into Jimin all the way. He makes gentle circles with his hips, grinding into him and shuddering as Jimin’s walls clench around him at the motion.
He pulls back, impatient and consumed by lust, just to slam into Jimin all the way once more. The strength of it shoves Jimin harder against the mattress, cheeks and lips pooling on the pillow, eyes crunched shut in pleasure.
Jeongguk adopts his pace and maintains it swimmingly, fucking into him deeply, firmly, a steady rhythm that lures them both closer and closer to climax before they even realize it. The filthy sounds of skin slapping on skin echo out, almost louder than Jimin’s clipped moans. Jeongguk pants and groans into Jimin’s skin, pulling his hips closer while slamming the rest of him down into the mattress, their bodies feeling more like one massive entity than two separate pieces. It’s everything Jimin could’ve asked for and so, so much more. Jeongguk is so much more.
Jimin comes first, pent up and frazzled for so long, spilling onto the sheets and whining on every exhale as Jeongguk keeps fucking him, seeming to only speed up upon feeling Jimin spasm around him. He hasn’t come untouched in so long, is positive it’s thanks to the stimulating gauntlet his body has been through this evening – Jeongguk’s skilled hands had taken such good care of him.
Jeongguk finishes not long after, sadistically addicted to the rise in pitch of Jimin’s voice as he’s fucked beyond overstimulation, to the way his body melts and lets Jeongguk take, take, take even after everything.
They’re both panting more so than properly breathing, slick with sweat and drunk with intimacy. Jeongguk doesn’t bother pulling out, simply collapses against Jimin’s back and coils around him, grinning at Jimin’s instant complaints of heat and stickiness.
“As soon as I regain feeling in my legs, Jeon Jeongguk, I’m going to fucking murder you.”
Jeongguk smooshes his nose against the back of Jimin’s neck, unbothered by the droplets of sweat that stick to him. “Aww, Jimin-hyung, you old softie.”
Jimin grumbles and gripes, wriggling his body under Jeongguk’s heavy form, limbs truly feeling like jello melted under a heat lamp. He’d never been fucked so well, so thoroughly – his ass was still involuntarily squeezing around Jeongguk’s softening length, not ready to be empty again. Maybe they could sleep like this.
Jeongguk plants a tender kiss against his nape, “My sweet little potsticker.”
Or maybe Jimin really will murder him.
"Honey, can we go back to IKEA tonight?" Jimin asks from the counter, seated comfortably atop a bar-stool while he nibbles on some yogurt.
"Hm? Why?" Jeongguk calls from the living room.
He takes another bite of yogurt, humming around the spoon. "No real reason. Wanna go take another look at that mattress."