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Storm for Me

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When Namjoon was a child, he watched a young woman hold back tears while her mother wailed. He watched her walk silently at the head of a procession, trailed by their spiritual leaders veiled in white and murmuring prayers. Her family stood by with the rest of the onlookers, holding back her sobbing mother and watching her go for the last time. Namjoon remembered his feelings in that moment vividly -- the awe at her bravery, the pull in his heart each time her mother cried out, and the lingering itch of uncertainty.

After she had gone and the crowds dispersed, he'd asked his own mother why she had to go when it hurt her family so badly. Couldn't there be another way?

His mother had looked down at him, pity welling up in her eyes. (Pity, he'd thought, but maybe also a fear that she wouldn't let herself dwell on, fear that one day she might be in the same position.)

"It is for all of us," she'd told him softly, brushing the hair from his eyes. "She has made a great sacrifice so that we can all continue to live peacefully."

The answer didn't sit well in Namjoon's gut, like a stale meal on an empty stomach.

But he had been young then, and it was easy enough to move on when the seasons changed, when he had work to do with the rest of the children his age. And it was easy to focus on learning when he was so hungry for it. 

He learned about the harvest, about fishing, but especially about crafting. Namjoon's father was a shipwright, who carved out vessels of all different sizes, shapes, and uses. Namjoon was fascinated by the process, by how small changes to the design could create drastic differences in function.

He spent his childhood on his father's docks, or on the shore, crafting his own small ships, or helping his father with his work. (Or sometimes, chasing gulls or catching crabs, or digging up the small burrowing creatures in the sand just to watch them bury themselves again.) And when he was not working, he was taking his own little boats out on the water, to sit alone in the middle of the ever-expanding sea, to feel the water rocking him gently into a quiet calm.

He was drawn to the water in ways he could not explain, in ways that were unusual even for his people. They relied on the water, needed the fresh streams from the mountains to grow their crops and water their animals, and needed the bounties of the sea to keep them well-fed throughout the year. But to Namjoon, the sea was more than that.

With the cool water caressing his skin, he felt comforted and cared for, and a sense of belonging he experienced nowhere else. Namjoon never felt so at peace as when he was beside the ocean, watching the waves, feeling the breeze on his skin, listening to the waves, and smelling the crisp scent of the sea. 

And in that peace, it was easy to forget the pain of spring for another year. Until the snows began to melt on the mountains that bordered their home, and the rivers flowed heavy with thaw.

He learned to recognize it eventually. When spring began to fade and the rivers began to wane again, the symbol of the sea would appear. A wave under a shining sun, painted on the door of one of the homes in their town, brought the end of his temporary peace.

Each year, it became harder to witness, and harder to forget afterwards. Namjoon grew more and more bitter each time it happened, and told himself that it wasn't because he was nearing the age when he might be one of the ones to go. That he was furious at the cruelty of it.

Because each year, the home with the symbol of the sea must offer one of theirs of a certain age to go, to stand at the altar of the sea god, and never return. 

The elders of their town tell them it is necessary. That before these offerings, harsh storms battered their coast and cost many lives. The storms prevented them from fishing, drowned their crops, and destroyed their homes. But then they prayed to the god and asked for peace, and this was what he wanted in exchange. Many others died, they said, so it is better now that only one is lost each spring.

But Namjoon has never quite believed that.

When he was 13 years, he asked his father the question that had been plaguing him for as long as he could remember. "What kind of god makes such demands of his people?"

"We have little choice, son," he'd said, expression heavy. "We either continue as we have been, or risk the wrath of the sea god. And what would happen then? I do not wish to know."

So Namjoon accepted it. What else could he do, one child who no longer wanted to live this way? He was wise enough to know he could not voice dissent against the elders, at least not yet. But he also knew, as surely as he felt it when he watched the sea from the docks, he would be offered one day like the rest.

What was there for Namjoon to do, then, but wait until he was the proper age? All he could do was watch as each year, another youth was lost.

But this year, the year Namjoon had turned 21, the god had not been appeased.

The storms came, as they always did, rolling in from the sea with the warm weather. They perched over the town, battering ships and homes alike. An offering was made, like every year, and the storms calmed. For a time.

When the storms returned even after the first offering was made, Namjoon knew this was his year. This year, he would make the walk down to the sea god's cave.

He had not been the next chosen, or even the next. But after three were offered, and after Namjoon's father suggested that perhaps they should stop, that they should make offerings of food and wine instead of their young ones, the symbol appeared on their door.

The memory of that morning was still clear in his mind. He had risen and begun the day like every morning, washing his face and his hands in the clean basin in his room and preparing a simple breakfast for his parents. He had meant to complete the finish on a new boat that day, one he had been building with a younger boy, Jungkook.

Jungkook said he wanted to learn to craft boats like Namjoon and his father, but Namjoon suspected Jungkook really just wanted an excuse to spend time with him. But Namjoon didn't mind, and Jungkook was a hard worker. Their small boat was nearly done in the span of a few weeks. But when Namjoon opened the door of his home and saw the stares of pity from the villagers nearby, he knew he would not see it finished.

Namjoon was the only youth in his home, and he was the proper age. There was no choice to be made.

The ceremony had occurred that evening, and Namjoon played his part well. There were those who believed it an honor, to be offered up to the sea god, and he did his best to appear to be one. At his ceremony, he said all the right words. When he walked from his home for the last time, he went with his head high and shoulders straight. He tried not to think about Jungkook watching him the same way he'd watched that young woman years ago. And when his mother sobbed into his father's coat at the loss of her only son, Namjoon kept his expression stoic. 

He had kept up his mask as he walked down to the shore, and up through the entrance of the cave when the tides were low. He could no longer see the priests and priestesses who had accompanied him, but he could still hear their prayers and sacred songs echoing across the water.

Now, alone in this dim cave, standing at the place where the sea meets the shore, he is afraid.

The tides have risen, closing off the cave entrance, and shielding him from the rest of the world. The only light shines down on him through a small hole in the cave ceiling, his last glimpse of sun and sky.

The sound of prayer has faded, and he does not know if the worshipers are still outside, or if they have left him to his fate. But either way, he is alone, watching the water creep ever higher up the sand. He knows when the water reaches him at the altar, when the sea god can sense his presence, the god will appear before him. And then, Namjoon will die.

He has considered trying to hide on the far side of the cave, climbing the rocks, staying out of the water so that perhaps the sea god will not know he is there, and that he might escape at the next low tide. But then, he thinks, where would he go? He could not return to his home, because they would either kill him or simply return him to this cave. And he could not run, because he would risk angering the god. Although he does not care about many in the village, he could not risk invoking the god's wrath, not while his parents still lived there.

And, ultimately, Namjoon feels that this is his fate. He was always meant to be here. If he left, he knows he would only be drawn back here, somehow.

So instead, he waits, watching the water, anticipating his death.

The sun is low in the sky when the water nearly reaches him. Namjoon cannot see the sunset from the cave, but the light from the ceiling is growing dimmer, and he thinks the day must be drawing to a close. Just in time, for the water has only just brushed against his toes.

He sits hunched over in front of the altar, watching the waves caress his feet, wondering when exactly the god will come to take him. But, despite his situation and his fear, the touch of the cool water against his skin is comforting. He still feels drawn to the ocean, even now. He wiggles his toes in the water, sinks them into the soft sand, and thinks that if he has to die, there is no place he'd rather be than at the sea's edge.

But then, he notices a ripple moving across the water, then another, and another. He glances up, and his breath catches in his throat at the sight.

There is a person rising from the water near the mouth of the cave, step by step, just his head at first, but now his shoulders, now his chest. Although he rises from the water, there is nothing beneath the surface, no trace of the rest of his body until it appears above the soft waves, as if his body is forming from the water itself. And his clothing does not move like fabric should -- it appears light and thin, but it flows around his body like heavy rain.

And he's beautiful. His hair is light like stars, and his eyes are the deep grey of the sea at twilight. His features are harsh and soft at once, in a way that makes him seem unreal. And as each step he takes forward raises him from beneath the water, Namjoon feels a shiver trace down his spine. 

All at once, Namjoon understands. This is the sea god. He has come to claim his offering.

Namjoon watches frozen in place as the god continues to rise, to form his body, until he is walking along the surface of the water. And then the god is standing before him, barely an arm's length away, and Namjoon is staring down at him.

"Oh," Namjoon blurts before he can stop himself, "you're small."

The god blinks up at him. 

"I have walked among humans before. I chose this shape then. I like the size," the god says, and sounds almost defensive as he looks down to appraise himself. "Would you prefer me larger?"

As he asks, the god's body ripples, like a disturbance of water. And although Namjoon tries, he can no longer quite focus on the edges of the god's features. The god takes a step closer, grows in size as he moves nearer, and then Namjoon realizes with a cold dread in his stomach, the god is growing too much.

It's slow at first, then swells like a wave nearing the shore, until the god is towering over Namjoon, looking down at him with those harsh, grey eyes. He reaches down with an enormous hand, big enough to engulf Namjoon's torso, and Namjoon flinches away, backing against the wall of the cave.

The god laughs.

A moment later, his body shrinks down, returning to his former height. "So you liked this size after all."

"Um, yes," Namjoon answers nervously. "It's a good size."

The sea god hums. "I know."

Namjoon doesn't know how to answer that. But the god doesn't seem to mind. He takes another step closer, eyes traveling Namjoon's body, appraising him.

"I was not expecting another so soon," he muses.

Namjoon doesn't understand what he means. Isn't that why he stormed? Isn't that why he destroyed their ships, ravaged their village, drowned their crops? Isn't that why Namjoon is here? Because the god desired another sacrifice?

But Namjoon doesn't have time to ponder, because the god takes another step closer, until Namjoon can feel his breath across his skin, and says, "I am not yet hungry again, but I suppose that I can still indulge." 

He grins at Namjoon, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light, and Namjoon is abruptly reminded of the times he had helped restore the altar after a sacrifice. He had cleaned the remains from the offering place, washed the blood from the rock, seen the pieces of flesh floating in the shallow water. The sea god is not gentle when he eats his sacrifices.

"Please," Namjoon begs, fear and desperation working together to find an escape from that fate. "If you do not hunger, please, I can be of use to you in other ways."

The god pauses. "What have you to offer?"

Namjoon looks down at himself. "Just," he begins. "Just, myself."

The god smiles again, amused. "I thought you did not wish to be eaten."

Namjoon clenches his jaw. "I do not. But I can fulfill other -- desires," he says.

A look of confusion crosses the god's face. "What else could I desire of you?"

"You have a body, do you not?" Namjoon prompts. The god merely looks at him, still unsure what Namjoon is offering. "Have you not experienced the pleasures another can bring?"

When the god does not respond, Namjoon makes his offer clearer. A hand slides down his own chest, his flat stomach. Fingertips ghost across the thin ceremonial fabric he wears, drifting further, until his fingertips slip beneath the hem of his pants. The god's eyes do not stray from the sight, and Namjoon knows he understands. But under that heavy gaze, Namjoon still feels that he is about to be devoured.

"What are you called, creature?" the god asks.

"Namjoon," comes the whispered answer.

The god's eyes flick up to meet his. "Namjoon," he says, tasting the name on his tongue. "You may call me Jimin."

Namjoon nods. He knows what the offering means, and slowly undoes the ties of his shirt, letting it slip down his shoulders and onto the ground. Jimin stares at his chest, then his hands as his slips his fingers beneath the waist of his pants to slip them down and off. A moment later, he's standing before the sea god completely bare, shivering against the cool air of the cave.

Jimin doesn't take his eyes from Namjoon's body, but reaches out his hand, then hesitates, hand hovering near Namjoon's body but not yet touching. It is almost as if he is unsure of himself, or waiting for Namjoon to permit him, or both.

Namjoon is endeared despite himself, and reaches up to grasp Jimin's hand. His skin cool and smooth to the touch, and the god is compliant as Namjoon pulls him forward to press his palm against Namjoon's chest.

Jimin gasps softly, spreading his fingers, feeling the warmth of Namjoon's skin and his heartbeat beneath. Namjoon takes in a breath and Jimin follows it, dropping his hand lower as Namjoon exhales. His hand continues, tracing the lines of Namjoon's stomach before coming to rest on his hip. 

Namjoon watches him as Jimin places his other hand on Namjoon's chest, and follows a similar path down his other side. Jimin's eyes follow his hands, until they are both settled on Namjoon's hipbones, and then Jimin's eyes fall lower, to where Namjoon is growing between his legs. He looks enraptured.

"Have you ever done this before?" Namjoon asks, feeling breathless despite himself.

"I have never wanted to before," Jimin answers, and licks his full lips.

The motion makes Namjoon shudder, and the words cause a heat to bloom in his gut. This timeless creature, this god his people worship, wants Namjoon, and wants him in a way he has not wanted before. The power of it leaves him feeling heady, and confident when he takes himself in his hand and strokes.

Jimin stares, and Namjoon bites his lip to keep from moaning at the sight. "Do you want to touch?" he asks, voice wavering but deep.

"Yes," Jimin sighs, and his hand slides from Namjoon's hip.

Namjoon takes Jimin's hand in his and guides him, wrapping the god's fingers around his length and showing him how to stroke, how to twist his wrist just right. Namjoon leads him until his movements become more confident, and then he drops his hand and lets Jimin move on his own.

Jimin moves slowly at first, one hand still resting on Namjoon's hip. Namjoon watches him while he works, his expression focused and fixated on Namjoon's cock. Then he tightens his grip, and Namjoon gasps, reaching up to grasp Jimin's shoulder.

Jimin stops immediately and looks up at Namjoon. "No?" he asks hesitantly.

Namjoon smiles. "Yes," he answers, "it feels good. Keep doing that."

Jimin resumes his motions, but now he seems even more eager. He experiments with his grip, tightens his hold around the tip and then twists, drawing out another soft gasp from Namjoon. When he looks back up, he's grinning, and Namjoon wonders if he's enjoying this more than Namjoon himself.

"Do you want me -- ah," Namjoon sighs after Jimin rubs his palm across the tip. "Do you want me to touch you?"

Jimin slows his hand over Namjoon's cock, but keeps pumping as he considers. "Will you touch me like this?"

"If you want," Namjoon nods, smoothing his hand across Jimin's shoulder, down his arm. "However you want."

Jimin hums, twists his wrist again and Namjoon's breath hitches in his throat. He grins. "I want this."

Namjoon nods again. "This," he answers somewhat dumbly. His tongue feels heavy, his thoughts too slow. He can only think of the way Jimin is touching him, and the way Jimin has asked Namjoon to touch. He paws at Jimin's robes, trying to find the way to slip his hand under them, to touch Jimin's skin, but he can't figure them out. The clothes are like nothing Namjoon has encountered before.

Jimin eventually takes pity on him, chuckling as he steps back and disrobes himself. He unties the robes and they slip from his body like water, and then Jimin is back, pressed against Namjoon, his fingers curling around Namjoon's cock.

"Wait," Namjoon sighs as Jimin begins pumping again. He steps back to glance down, kicks his clothes into a hasty pile on the cave floor, and then sits down, drawing Jimin into his lap. He wraps his arms around Jimin, pulling him close. His skin is cool and soft, but beneath, Namjoon can feel the hard muscles of his body, the strength contained in his small frame.

Jimin grins at the new position and slides an arm around Namjoon's shoulder as he settles in Namjoon's lap, moving his legs to bracket Namjoon's waist. "I like this," he says, fingertips tracing down Namjoon's chest.

Namjoon spreads his legs, pulling Jimin's hips down to press against his. Jimin whines a little when Namjoon's change in position limits his movements, but a moment later, Namjoon is pressing himself against Jimin so their cocks are touching, tips smearing precome together, and Jimin's whine trails off into a soft moan. Namjoon shifts again, rubbing them against each other, and Jimin moans louder.

"Let me," Namjoon gasps, and slips his fingers around them both, pressing their cocks together in his palm.

Jimin drops his hand, letting Namjoon take control, and wraps his arm around Namjoon's waist instead. He leans his head against Namjoon's shoulder and watches as Namjoon's large hand moves up and down.

Jimin shifts in his lap, pressing closer. "Namjoon," he sighs, and rocks his hips into Namjoon's hand. 

The motion causes more friction between them, leaving Namjoon gasping for air. He feels like he's drowning, movements slow, mind cloudy. All he knows is the feel of Jimin all around him, the smell of the sea and the damp of their cave. The way Jimin moves in his lap and sighs so sweetly. Namjoon releases a shuddering breath and tightens his hold around Jimin's body, fingertips digging into his shoulder.

Jimin whines again, tipping his head back and rolling his hips more, harder, fucking into Namjoon's hand, against Namjoon's cock. The sight of it is almost too much.

"Nnh, Jimin," Namjoon sighs, then tilts forward, pressing their foreheads together as his eyes slip shut. He feels Jimin's hot breath against his lips, and cranes his neck upwards until their lips are almost, almost touching.

Namjoon holds his breath, focusing on the feeling of Jimin's exhales across his lips, on the stuttering sound of Jimin's gasps. Each soft noise sends a new shiver down Namjoon's spine, and that heat coiling tighter in his gut.

"Mm," he whimpers at the movements of his own hand. He tightens his grip, pressing the two of them together more firmly, and brushes his thumb over the tips, smearing their precome together. A shudder runs through him without warning, hips jerking forward into his own touch, and Jimin gasps with him.

"Namjoon," he breathes, sounding so soft and lost and helpless, and Namjoon can't hold in his moans anymore. He feels like he could come just from the sound of Jimin saying his name like that.

His free hand drifts higher, curling around the back of Jimin's neck. His fingers dig into Jimin's skin, and Jimin hisses at the sensation, but arches up to press into Namjoon's touch. 

Namjoon stares into his eyes, their lips still hovering a breath apart. He can feel Jimin shaking in his lap, muscles tense, and knows Jimin is close. He wants to see it. He wants to see the way Jimin falls apart, just for him, because of him.

He moves his hand faster, syncing his strokes with Jimin's thrusts, and trails his fingers down Jimin's spine. His hand comes to rest at Jimin's lower back, pulling him closer with each thrust, and he feels Jimin shiver, then freeze, and then he's gasping and coming over Namjoon's hand. He clutches desperately to Namjoon's shoulders, hanging on tightly as his body shudders through his orgasm. 

Namjoon looks down, watches Jimin still thrusting up into his hand, watches the way his come drips down between them, covering Namjoon's hand and his cock and slicking his movements, and Namjoon can't hold back anymore. A moment later and he's spilling himself too, letting his come mix with Jimin's in his hand.

He pumps them both through it, slowing the movements of his hand to guide them down, and keeps stroking gently until Jimin is whining and jerking away.

He presses a gentle kiss to Jimin's flushed cheek, and reaches over to wash his hand in the ocean water. Jimin sit boneless and unmoving in Namjoon's lap, limbs still locked around him. Namjoon untangles his limbs slowly and sets Jimin down beside him. He uses a piece of his robes to clean them as best he can, shushing Jimin when he complains about the sensitivity.

When he's done, he realizes that at some point, the sun had set completely. The cave is darker than before, and the light shining down from the top of the cave is scant. But he can see Jimin beside him, illuminated by the moonlight reflecting off the water beyond the cave. Jimin had been watching the water while Namjoon cleaned them both, and now his gaze remains fixed on the small waves, although he has reached out to rest his hand on Namjoon's side. 

Namjoon had almost forgotten what Jimin was in the heat of the moment, when Jimin seemed helpless and small, letting Namjoon touch him. But looking into his eyes now, Namjoon is reminded that this creature beside him isn't human. 

His eyes don't merely reflect the water, but instead seem to continue it. Like his eyes are wells so deep that light cannot reach the bottom. Looking into them, Namjoon feels lost and small.

"Are you really a god?" Namjoon asks, voice merely a whisper in the dark.

"Hm?" Jimin hums in question, only barely paying attention, still running his fingers along the curve of Namjoon's ribs.

"Do you control the sea?" Namjoon asks again.

Jimin's fingers stop, and he turns to meet Namjoon's eyes. "No," he answers finally. "I am the sea."

And in this moment, Namjoon believes it. Jimin looks ethereal, his light hair seems to float around him, framing his face. But he's grinning again, teeth visible, and the moonlight reflected from the waves dances across his sharp features. He's beautiful and dangerous, just like the sea.

Namjoon turns away, unable to look at Jimin any longer, because he fears he may sink down and never surface. Instead he focuses on the small piece of the night sky he can see through the ceiling of their cave.

The sky is clear, and the stars are out and visible, shining down on them, and, Namjoon thinks, on his parents in their home. He wonders if they are asleep, or if they are awake in their bed, thinking of him and wondering if he is still alive. Or if they've already mourned the death of their son.

He feels Jimin's fingertips still tracing his skin, drawing simple patterns back and forth, like waves on the shore. He thinks of his mother's cries when he walked away from her. And he can't help but wonder aloud, "Why did you choose me?"

"What do you mean?" Jimin asks, distracted, like Namjoon's question is of little importance.

"When you chose me for your sacrifice. Was it just a whim? Did it matter to you at all?" Namjoon can hear the frustration in his own voice, but he can't stop it from seeping through.

Jimin must hear it too, because he turns to fix his eyes on Namjoon. "I did not choose you. I do not choose any of the humans that are offered to me."

Namjoon doesn't understand, but he thinks he must just be asking the wrong questions. "Do you mean, you choose the house and then the people choose the person?"

Jimin sighs, and now he looks frustrated as well. "No. I mean what I say. I do not choose. Not the house, not the person."

Namjoon furrows his brows, thinking, trying to make sense of it. "I don't understand."

Jimin huffs a laugh. "Clearly."

Namjoon frowns. He doesn't see what's funny. His family was torn apart, his parents lost their only child, and they will never recover. He just wanted to know why. And Jimin doesn't seem to know or care.

But then, Namjoon doesn't know why he expected anything different. Of course a god who desired human offerings, who ate those human offerings, would not be bothered by the specifics of the people offered. Why should he care, when he has been offered countless sacrifices? Why bother learning anything about them when they are just going to be killed and devoured? Again Namjoon thinks, maybe he should be asking a different question.

"I did not choose you," Jimin admits then, drawing Namjoon back out of his thoughts. "but I am glad you were chosen. You are the most interesting offering I have received."

Namjoon thinks that the compliment is a little unsettling, since Jimin has eaten all of his other human offerings. But he feels his cheeks heat despite himself. He is glad Jimin finds him interesting, for more reasons than the fact that his interest is keeping Namjoon alive.

"But I am bored of all these questions. Can we do something else?" Jimin asks petulantly, and trails his fingers along Namjoon's side until they still over his hip, where Namjoon cannot misunderstand his meaning.

He flushes a little more when he meets Jimin's hungry gaze, despite what they did earlier. And although he knows Jimin is asking, and knows he can refuse, Namjoon finds that he doesn't want to. 

"Yes," he sighs, and leans toward Jimin's touch.

Jimin crawls back into his lap an instant later, and Namjoon can feel that he's already hard. Jimin rocks his hips, grinding against Namjoon's stomach. His arms slip around Namjoon's neck, and he presses closer until their chests are flush together.

Namjoon's hands run up Jimin's thighs to settle on his hips, fingers spreading wide to touch as much skin as possible. Jimin is breathing into his ear, and each quiet gasp and stuttered breath has Namjoon's stomach tightening. Namjoon guides his movements, keeping his grind slow and steady, and before long, he feels a wetness against his stomach. Jimin is leaking against him, he realizes, smearing precome across him with each slow grind, and the thought has Namjoon thrusting his hips up against Jimin, desperate for more contact.

Jimin moans again and Namjoon grips his hip tighter, stilling his movements. "We can do something else this time," he says softly when Jimin makes a noise of complaint.

"Something else?" he asks eagerly, leaning back to look at Namjoon, and Namjoon almost wants to laugh. Instead, he trails a hand down his body, past the seam of his hip, to tease his fingers just above his hole. 

He watches Jimin watch him, and when he asks, "Do you want to fuck me?"

Jimin's lips pop open into a little o. This time, Namjoon allows himself to laugh.

Jimin is not discouraged, and nods eagerly, already leaning forward to settle himself between Namjoon's legs. He slides his fingers up Namjoon's thigh to trace around his rim, and Namjoon has to bite back a whimper at the feeling, until Jimin's finger pushes ever so slightly, and --

"Wait, wait," Namjoon gasps, pressing his palm to Jimin's chest.

The god stops, tilting his head as he looks up at Namjoon. "Are you alright?"

At the way Jimin is watching him, Namjoon stops breathing for a moment. His heart feels a little full, a little warm, a little too fluttery in his chest. He knows he's being a little irrational, feeling this way about someone who was planning to literally eat him when they met, but when he looks into Jimin's deep, fathomless eyes, when Jimin is looking at him with genuine concern --

"Namjoon?" Jimin prompts.

"Sorry," Namjoon scrambles to answer, embarrassed at being caught drifting in his thoughts. "I um -- I meant to say, I need preparation. Before, um, before we -- before you do that."

Jimin furrows his brow. "Preparation?"

"Yes," Namjoon answers, propping himself up on his elbows to meet Jimin's eyes better. "I um, need to be stretched and I need some kind of lubricant. Like, oil or something, to make it easier. Not -- not water," he adds quickly when he sees Jimin begin to turn back towards the sea behind them.

Jimin furrows his brow for a moment, and Namjoon wonders if maybe it was a mistake to bring this up without any supplies. But then Jimin holds up his hand, and Namjoon's jaw drops. His palm is coated by a clear, viscous substance.

"Will this work?" he asks.

Namjoon reaches out to touch it. The substance is thick, but wet and slippery, almost like oil. "What is that?"

Jimin smiles, looking a bit proud of himself. "It is for moisture, when I leave the ocean side. I cannot maintain a body if I become too dry. I make this to protect myself." 

Namjoon doesn't think he wants to know more, and instead reaches out again and runs his fingers through the substance. He lowers his hand between his legs, and then it's his turn to feel smug when the smile drops from Jimin's lips as he watches.

He traces a finger around his rim, imitating Jimin's motion from earlier and spreading the lubricant before he relaxes and then pushes one finger inside. Namjoon hears a gasp and wonders if it was his own, until he realizes it was Jimin, who is still staring, looking enthralled.

If Namjoon felt confident before, the look on Jimin's face makes him feel invincible. He leans back on his elbow as he works, spreading his legs wider to give Jimin a better show. He slides one finger in and out, getting used to the familiar sensation, and then pushes another finger in. Jimin's hands fly up to Namjoon's knees, holding on tightly. His grip tightens when Namjoon sighs at his own touch, when he spreads his fingers to stretch himself more, when he slips a third finger inside.

Namjoon watches Jimin watching him, the way his breathing speeds, his cheeks flush, and the way he chews his lower lip. It's a thrilling feeling to see how he's affecting Jimin, a god, a creature whose power Namjoon can't even comprehend. That thought makes his stomach flip.

He groans, pushing his fingers deeper, feeling them brush against his prostate. His body jerks in response, and Jimin's fingers dig into his flesh. Namjoon laughs a little breathlessly. Jimin seems more affected by this than he is. He pumps his fingers in and out, lets out a little sigh when he brushes against his prostate again, and Jimin whines in response, high and sweet. Namjoon fucks himself harder, and thinks that he'll never tire of hearing Jimin make that sound. 

The way Jimin looks at him, like his mouth is watering, like Namjoon is the most delicious meal he's ever seen, would have terrified Namjoon mere hours ago. But now, he sees the hunger in Jimin's eyes, and he wants it. He wants Jimin to devour him, to sink his teeth and his cock into him, to fuck him until he doesn't care if Jimin kills him or not. Namjoon just wants.

He presses his fingers against his prostate one last time, moaning at the feeling and at the broken sounds Jimin is making just from the sight, and then he pulls his fingers from himself.

"I'm ready," he sighs, and reaches out for Jimin.

The god surges forward, slotting himself between Namjoon's thighs, propping himself up with his hands beside Namjoon's head. Namjoon reaches down to stroke his cock and slick him up, to make sure he's prepared. And then he pulls Jimin forward, and lines his cock up.

"Go ahead," Namjoon tells him, and a moment later Jimin is pushing into him.

"Fuck," he gasps, reaching up to grip Jimin's upper arms as Jimin pushes in slowly. He pushes forward until the tightness becomes too much, then pulls back slightly, just to push forward again. Namjoon's fingers dig into Jimin's muscles and he tilts his hips, rocking up each time Jimin pushes back in to help him.

And then slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Jimin fully seats himself, until his hips are pressed flush against Namjoon's, and they're both breathing hard and blushing pink.

"Jimin, you feel --"

"So good," Jimin groans, dropping his head against Namjoon's shoulder. He kicks his hips forward, pushing even deeper, and Namjoon cries out at the feeling.

Jimin starts a slow grind, moving his hips in small circles, pushing as deep into Namjoon as he can, and Namjoon can feel the tears already forming in the corners of his eyes, but he loves it, and arches his back to press harder against him. Jimin slips an arm underneath the small of his back to tilt his hips and pull him closer. Namjoon feels the strength in him then, when Jimin moves him further into his lap like Namjoon weighs nothing, and it causes another wave of arousal to course through him.

"You can --" Namjoon groans when Jimin hits his prostate just right. "You can move more, please," he begs.

But when Jimin pulls out and thrusts back in, Namjoon feels like he's being pulled under, sinking like a stone down and down and down. Each thrust pushes him further, drags him deeper, until he's surrounded by Jimin and nothing else.

Jimin moves slowly. He cradles Namjoon in his arms, and starts an easy rhythm. He guides Namjoon down, rocking into him sweetly, calmly, until Namjoon is relaxed and sighing beneath him.

Namjoon isn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't this. Not the gentleness, and certainly not the pace. Jimin moves like the tide coming in, each wave pressing further in unnoticeable increments until suddenly the shore is submerged. Each touch is like the swell on a calm morning, so soft that Namjoon feels himself melting into it, letting the push and pull of the ocean carry him away.

Jimin's face is buried in Namjoon's throat, and Namjoon feels the hot wet of his breath against his skin. He feels Jimin's lips moving against his collar bone, like Jimin is speaking, but Namjoon can't make out the words. All he can comprehend is the feeling Jimin in him, on him, all around him. 

He feels like he's drowning in Jimin, his lungs working so hard but unable to catch his breath. But Namjoon doesn't mind. He'll give his breath if it means he can continue to drink from this ambrosia.

Jimin groans into Namjoon's throat, and the sound feels muted, distant, underwater. Namjoon wraps his arms tighter around Jimin's chest, feeling the dip of his ribs beneath his fingers, the way his chest expands with each heavy breath. Namjoon breathes in when Jimin exhales, fills his lungs with Jimin because he can't get enough, he needs more of Jimin, more of this feeling.

Jimin shifts his weight, bracing himself on one arm beside Namjoon's head, and pulling Namjoon's hips higher into his lap until he's completely off the ground, spine arching up and forcing a sharper angle that hits him just right with each gentle thrust. But the pace isn't enough, Namjoon is crying from the pleasure but it's still not enough. He needs more.

"Harder, please," Namjoon gasps, and Jimin fucks him harder.

His hips pound into him, and his arm around Namjoon's waist pulls him back to meet each thrust. Tears stream down Namjoon's face at how good it feels, he's never felt anything this overwhelming and incredible before. He feels like he's soaring, too high, like the air is thinned and he can't breathe, like his body is being torn apart by too much sensation. He imagines Jimin eating him now, those sharp teeth tearing into his flesh for real, and finds that's the thought that finally pushes him over the edge.

When Namjoon comes, he arches deeper, stomach clenching as he bends until his shoulders leave the ground. He sees stars, his hands flying out beside him, searching for something to hold onto as the pleasure rocks through him. But there's nothing to grasp, and no reprieve as Jimin keeps fucking him through it.

His pace doesn't slow, and his thrusts remain forceful and strong and Namjoon comes down from his high. He scrambles to hold onto Jimin's arms, to ground himself somehow as Jimin keeps using him, chasing his own pleasure. But he doesn't want Jimin to stop. He wants to keep feeling this way forever, broken with pleasure, used and full of Jimin.

Namjoon may have come, but he feels like his peak will never end, like each time he starts to come down, Jimin hits him just right and keeps him trapped there, burning with sensitivity but drowning in Jimin. Like his existence is just the pleasure Jimin is bringing him.

He feels the tension in Jimin's stomach first, then the tremble in his muscles, and he knows Jimin is close. Namjoon rolls his hips, rocks up into Jimin's thrusts and clenches down, and then Jimin's hips are stuttering.

"Namjoon," he moans into his throat, jerking his hips and pressing in as deep as he can go, grinding into Namjoon as he spills himself inside.

They lay there together for a long moment, Jimin breathing heavily into Namjoon's skin, Namjoon clutching Jimin close. When their breathing finally calms, Jimin pulls out slowly, and Namjoon sucks in a sharp breath. Now that the pleasure is gone, the sensitivity has turned to soreness.

But Jimin seems to have learned ettiquette from Namjoon as well, and takes his time cleaning Namjoon's seed from his stomach, and his own from between Namjoon's legs. Namjoon lets him work, savors the feeling of cool water against his skin, and lets himself drift.

Namjoon isn't sure if he sleeps, or how long, but when he surfaces again, Jimin is still lying beside him. The sun must have risen, because bright light shines down through the hole in the top of the cave, and when Namjoon checks, he can see that the tide has almost completely receded. 

He shifts to his side, resting his head on Jimin's shoulder and draping an arm across Jimin's stomach. Jimin smiles and presses his cheek against Namjoon's head. He slips an arm around Namjoon's shoulders and hugs him close.

Part of him wants to lay here with Jimin like this forever, and forget about the rest of the world. But Jimin's answers to his earlier questions are still floating through his mind, and Namjoon still has more questions. He wants to ask them before he loses his chance, before Jimin leaves, or kills him.

He looks up, and Jimin smiles down at him attentively.

"There is something I'm still wondering, if I may ask," he begins.

Jimin raises an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"You did not choose me. And you do not choose any sacrifice made to you," Namjoon says slowly, and Jimin nods along, looking somewhat impatient. "So then, why do you want them?"

Now Jimin frowns. "I do not."

"You don't want them?" Namjoon can't believe what he is hearing.

Jimin shrugs, expressionless. "What could the sea want?"

Namjoon resists answering that Jimin wanted him, but again he wonders if perhaps he has asked the wrong questions, because Jimin's answers feel incomplete. Like there is more to this story that Namjoon is afraid to know. He tries to think, to ask what he really wants to know, "Do you care about our offerings at all?"

Jimin hums, thoughtful. "I do not mind them. But they do not sway me the way your people seem to believe. I did not request them, and if they were to stop, I would not be bothered."

Namjoon feels like this is it, he is on the brink of learning what he fears, and if he continues, there is no coming back. But he can't help himself. He needs to know. "Why did you cause the storms then, if it was not for more sacrifices?"

"I felt restless. I felt like I needed to storm. It was not because of your offerings. It was because I am the sea." He scoffs. "You humans are so vain. I do not storm for you."

Namjoon feels sick. "Then why do we do it? Why do we offer up our youth to you each year?"

Jimin shrugs. "I do not know. I am not concerned with the doings of humans. You would be better to ask your elders."

And like that, Namjoon's fears are confirmed. Jimin never cared for the sacrifices, he ate them because that's what the sea does with lost souls. But they were not chosen for some greater purpose, and their deaths meant nothing. The elders had betrayed their people. They had chosen youth to die for years for no reason.

Namjoon has to do something. He can't allow it to continue now that he knew the truth.

But first, there is Jimin. Namjoon is still lying in his arms, and the god is idly combing his fingers through Namjoon's hair.

"Are you still going to eat me?" he asks, and feels Jimin's fingers pause against his scalp.

"Hm, perhaps," Jimin muses, then resumes his movements. "But not today. As you said, I do not hunger." He chuckles to himself at the joke, and Namjoon wonders if he was meant to be worried.

But lying beside him, holding Jimin in his arms, Namjoon knows Jimin is teasing. Jimin won't eat him, because he is still interested in Namjoon and in the pleasures he can bring. Namjoon doesn't know how long that will last, but he's willing to take what he can get. Especially when what he gets is a lover as eager, gentle, and beautiful as Jimin.

"If you will not eat me today, may I ask to return to my home?" Namjoon asks. Jimin's hand drops from Namjoon's hair.

"You wish to return?" Jimin frowns. "I don't like that."

"Come with me," Namjoon pleads, and reaches out to grasp Jimin's hand.

But Jimin wrinkles his nose in distaste. "I like that even less."

"What if I offer you a favor in return?" Namjoon asks, looking up through his lashes in a way he hopes seems coy and alluring.

Jimin hums, still sounding displeased, but Namjoon's attempt must have worked, because his curiosity wins. "What favor?"

Namjoon grins. "How about a kiss?"

Jimin's eyes are wide and interested. "A kiss?"

"This," Namjoon answers, and moves closer until their lips are just barely apart, until he can feel the heat of Jimin's breath and take it into his lungs, until Jimin is leaning forward and trying to close the distance between them.

Namjoon pulls back at the last moment, and smiles down at Jimin's pout. He considers that perhaps it isn't wise to taunt a sea god so, but Jimin looks so cute that Namjoon can't bring himself to regret it. "Will you agree to come with me to the village?"

"Yes," Jimin says quickly. "Now kiss me."

Namjoon grins and pulls Jimin closer, and a moment later their lips are pressed together. Jimin is warm and soft, and so eager. He yields to Namjoon, letting him guide them gently, but soon he wants more. He pushes harder against Namjoon, varies their rhythm and the pressure of their kiss, lets his hands travel across Namjoon's chest.

Namjoon can feel him using what he learned the previous night, touching him in ways that make Namjoon squirm and sigh into their kiss. And when Namjoon finally parts his lips and tentatively licks the seam of Jimin's, the god's mouth opens eagerly. 

Namjoon feels the sharpness of Jimin's teeth against his tongue, traces along the edges and feels the sting, tastes his own blood. And then Jimin is kissing him fiercely, hungrily, holding onto him so tightly and breathing into him. Jimin whimpers against his lips, pawing at Namjoon's sides, trying to pull him even closer. Namjoon's stomach flips, the need he thought had been sated rising up in him higher and higher until he feels like he's going to overflow. 

Jimin is still kissing him, and Namjoon can't think of anything else. He feels like he's being devoured after all, like he's exhaling everything he is and Jimin is drinking it down until there's nothing left inside of him but Jimin, Jimin, Jimin.

And then the kiss is ending, Jimin is pulling away, pressing gentle kisses to Namjoon's cheeks, easing him back to the surface. He opens his eyes slowly, like waking from a dream. And when his eyes focus, he sees Jimin sitting before him, smiling. Namjoon looks back into Jimin's eyes, and he smiles too.

Because Namjoon can see it, suddenly -- the vastness of Jimin. The timeless and fleeting nature of the sea. The boundless expanse of the waters and the depth of their contents. Namjoon could never truly know what lies beyond his shore, because there is simply too much for him to comprehend.

But, he thinks, as long as Jimin will have him, he is willing to stay, and see as much as he can.