If you were to ask anyone employed at the Impresso Espresso who the man with the silver hair that sits in the corner of the cafe every day, three times a day, at the same exact time, with his ‘nonfat, iced skinny orange iced coffee with light ice, whip cream and chocolate drizzle’ is, all eyes would fall straight to Yoongi.
Thanks to the self proclaimed HBIC, Head Barista in Charge, Jung Hoseok, there’s a mystery that surrounds Jimin that’s been created by a web of obnoxious stories about who he is and what he is to Yoongi. Yoongi can’t help roll his eyes every time he hears a new one or any time Hoseok pesters him for details of their relationship, because Hoseok actually knows they’re just roommates and that Jimin’s wealth isn’t due to some outrageous story you only see in the dramas.
All of Hoseok’s rumors about Jimin being the President’s secret son, gone away into hiding after a death threat while he was a baby and needing to be protected by the President’s most trusted, Min Yoongi (which doesn’t make sense since they’re the same age, but no one seems to notice), or him being on the run from the government for accidentally leaking private information, or him being the rebellious son of one of South Korea’s wealthiest whose run away only to become the sugar daddy of one Local Cute Barista are false.
However, the rumors that Jung Hoseok spreads amongst their coworkers about Local Cute Barista’s being in love with the silver haired man with the obnoxious coffee order are very much true. That doesn’t stop Yoongi from denying it though.
Hoseok sings it, dragging out each syllable as he wiggles beside him and Yoongi considers throttling him. He loves his job though. Well, he loves the paycheck anyway and hates job interviews so he’s stuck not throttling Hoseok.
“This isn’t news, Hobi-ah. He comes here every day.”
“You can go on your break.”
Yoongi glances up from the cappuccino that he’s definitely making wrong to glance at his boss, the Head Barista in Charge. He isn’t sure why he’s still employed, if he’s being honest. It’s not that he can’t make coffee, but he can’t remember or care about the eight hundred steps his customers give him enough to make each order right. “I just went on break like, thirty minutes ago.”
There’s a gleam in Hoseok’s eyes as he presses his lips into a straight smile, pushing out the smallest of dimples from his cheeks. “Yeah well, Minnie wasn’t here then. It’s not usual for him to run late.”
Yoongi glances at the entrance to the cafe where Jimin stands, his silver hair whipped around his head from the wind and by the crimson cheeks, Yoongi’s guesses he ran here to make it in time between classes because he is later than usual. Or at least he hopes that his red cheeks have to do with that and not the man he’s talking to.
“I’m alright,” Yoongi hums, fingers snapping back as foam slips over them. He cusses quietly at the mound of foam leaking from the cup and where it’s piled on the counter around it. “Weren’t you the one that said I should quit smoking?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer as he shaves off the excess foam and hands it to the waiting customer. Her nose wrinkles at the sticky cup but Yoongi flashes her a nice smile and wishes her a good day, uncaring about whether or not she will return. It’s the only decent cafe shop on campus and everyone loves Hoseok, for a reason unbeknownst to Yoongi.
Jung Hoseok is his best friend but sometimes he can’t figure out why. He’s the human embodiment of the sun, but Yoongi’s pale skin has never done well under UV rays.
He starts on Jimin’s coffee, mentally rolling his eyes at the fact that Jimin orders a non-fat skinny drink with so much cream and chocolate sauce that it defeats any attempts at being fat free. He shouldn’t be surprised, coming from the man who orders a diet soda or a water whenever they go out to eat to ‘balance out’ the amount of food he orders.
Yoongi’s fond, whatever.
“Jimin shows up late? With a man? I’m sure you need a cigarette by now.”
Yoongi soaks the cream in chocolate sauce as he makes a mental note to ask Jimin if he is going to the dentist every six months like he’s supposed to. “Why would I care, Hob?”
“Because he’s beautiful you know,” Yoongi goes on with a flustered twirl of his hand, not listening. “Of course men are going to talk to him. It wouldn’t be surprising if every student here right now flocked to him and tried to get his number. Im not concerned that mr soulmate might find another man and fall desperately in love, okay? I’m more concerned with the fact that you want my lungs to die.”
“Hyung,” Hoseok says, amusement in his voice as he trails after Yoongi. Jimin has still not made his way to the counter and Yoongi glances at the clock, wondering if Jimin doesn’t actually have his usual class at five today. He’s still talking to the man, leaned back slightly with his arms curled around his belly and one of those smiles on his face that pushes his cheeks up so high that they force his eyes close to the point that he can barely see. “It’s not just your lungs that are important to me, but your heart as well. Stop being dramatic.”
Yoongi is pulling off the apron wrapped around his hips, the one with the ‘Keep Calm and Drink Chai’ printed on it that Yoongi had refused to wear until Hoseok threatened to ‘accidentally’ stop ordering the chocolate sauce if he didn’t. “I see enough of Jimin at home, Hobi-ah. I don’t think he wants me bothering him during his breaks too.”
Hoseok snorts so loudly it drags the attention of the customers waiting for their orders as they walk by. “You were just complaining that you rarely see him at home and the only reason Jimin comes here is to be bothered by you, hyung.”
The apron goes discarded as Yoongi steps from behind the counters. There’s a knowing grin on Hoseok’s face as he bobs on his toes.
“If my lungs collapse, it’s your fault for forcing me to go on so many smoke breaks. As my best friend, you should be helping me with my addiction - not making it worse.”
Hoseok snorts again and this time it sounds painful. Yoongi wonders if Hoseok knows he means his addiction to the air surrounding Jimin and not nicotine.
“You’re right about being soulmates, by the way,” Hoseok calls after him. “You’re both idiots.”
Usually, for Jimin’s third visit of the day to the Impresso Espresso, it’s around Yoongi’s break or when his shift is about to end. When Jimin doesn’t have class, he waits to walk home with Yoongi, when Jimin does, they sit together before Yoongi walks him to class. This is when Hoseok spreads the most rumors, whispering to the staff about what they could be speaking about, who’s murder they’re plotting, and just why Jimin looks like he’s made out of diamonds and gold whilst every other college student look like what thousands of dollars of debt would look like if it were a person.
Hoseok knows the truth of Jimin’s wealth and Yoongi wonders if that’s why he spreads the outrageous rumors since they hadn’t started until after the whispered talk about what Jimin really does had first spread across campus.
“Hyung! Ah! Yoonie!”
There’s a smile wavering on Yoongi’s face the moment he hears Jimin’s voice. It breaks out full force when Jimin’s smile turns to him. Sometimes Yoongi likes to think that Jimin has a smile reserved just for him as he’s never seen him share it with another. It’s just on the edge of shy, directed towards his shoulder and comes with a side of Jimin raking his hands excessively through his hair.
It makes the silky strands stand up around his head and Yoongi’s fondness grows. It had been perfectly styled this morning, laid over his forehead just the way he likes it. It always grows hopeless after lunch due to Jimin’s hands in it and dance practice, but Yoongi prefers it a lot more this way.
“Thank you,” Jimin murmurs, eyes fluttering to Yoongi as he takes the cup into his hands. HIs teeth rub over his bottom lip, a sparkle in his eye that makes Yoongi think of the stars before he nudges his head towards the man beside him. “Hyung, this is Jiwon-ssi. We work together.”
The man jerks his head in greeting, a grin on his lips that reminds him of Jungkook’s bunny smile and Yoongi’s stomach flips uncomfortably. He has a pretty face, a strong jaw and heavy eyes that turn into thin crescents when he smiles. “Min Yoongi.”
“Ah,” Jiwon says, his nose wrinkling and amusement flashing in his eyes as he glances towards Jimin and cocks a pierced eyebrow. It makes Jimin’s eyes grow wide before his nose wrinkles too and he knocks Jiwon in the side. “I’m gonna get a drink, ya? I’ll meet you at yours? Nice to meet you finally, Yoongi-ssi.”
Yoongi doesn’t watch as Jiwon moves into line after a quick slap of their hands, but instead scans for a place to sit. Since Jimin is later than usual, his corner table is taken but Jimin doesn’t look too bothered as he slips into a booth and tugs Yoongi in with him.
“You’re working tonight?”
Jimin glances at him as he sips at his coffee. His eyes fall closed as he moans in delight and Yoongi’s face grows hotter than the pot of coffee he just took straight off the burner. “Yes, is that alright hyung? I can go to Jiwon’s apartment if you need ours tonight?”
If Jimin had been bothered by the rumors that spread the year before, he had never let it show. He didn’t start hiding the rings adorning his fingers or the expensive diamonds hanging from his ears. He held onto his elegance and grace and kept dressing in brands that Yoongi couldn’t pronounce but looked as if they screamed money. Everything he wore was revealing in some way, from his sweaters being too big so that they hang off of his shoulders and show his collarbones, to the crop tops he wears that leave everything between his ribcage and hip bones bare.
The way he dresses, paired with his flirty nature, had been some of those reasons the rumors had spread. But Jimin didn’t stop, didn’t care. He changed his hair color and continued his work even though his audience was starting to grow rapidly.
He shines bright with confidence and Yoongi’s always admired him for it.
“No, it’s fine,” Yoongi promises. “Jungkookie has been nagging me to come over and I haven’t yet.”
Jimin sinks closer to the table, elbows scraping over the glossy surface until his fingers tickle over Yoongi’s hand, his skin still cold from holding the iced drink. “Bring home dinner. You don’t have class in the morning, yeah? We can stay up watching that show you wanted to watch.”
Yoongi turns his hand over, helpless under Jimin’s touch as he rubs at the dried foam clinging to his skin. It’s always awkward coming home after Jimin’s done working.
Well, not awkward, but frustrating, because it always takes so long for Yoongi to get rid of the images in his head of Jimin flushed and sweaty and looking well fucked out. He’s always been shameless like that; like he doesn’t care if Yoongi sees the come drying on his stomach when he walks out of his bedroom.
“I’ll pay?” Jimin pushes like Yoongi needs some convincing to agree. He doesn’t.
“Should I get food for three or will it just be us?”
The man that Jimin had been with is no longer in line but Yoongi sees that he has gone to another table instead of joining them. Yoongi’s internally grateful, though he won’t show it. He isn’t the jealous type. If he were, he’d soon die of it because what he had said to Hoseok had been true; Jimin receives a lot of attention a lot of the time. But Yoongi likes his moments with Jimin, alone. It feels like just the two of them even when they’re with their group of friends and Yoongi never truly minds the teasing that comes along with it.
And years ago, Jimin shoved his hands into Yoongi’s chest to wrap them around his heart and it feels like Jimin is squeezing him with tight fists every time Yoongi thinks of Jimin being with someone else.
“Just us?” Jimin asks, wrinkling his nose as if he’s confused by the question. Yoongi keeps his face schooled, refusing to let Jimin in on his thoughts even though they know each other well enough that Jimin can read his expression even when Yoongi thinks he isn’t making one.
He notices the moment Jimin understands. His eyes grow wide and glow with amusement, the grin on his lips filled with nothing but mischief.
“Are you jealous, hyung?” Jimin murmurs lowly, his lips pushing against the straw protruding from his cup. Yoongi doesn’t miss the way his tongue flickers against the plastic, but he pretends to. “When I was looking for a partner, I did offer it to you first.”
Yoongi considers smoking must be better for his health than this as his heart lurches hard against his sternum and he nearly chokes on the inhale he takes. Jimin had indeed offered him the position, which had been the second most awkward moment of his life.
The first had been when Jimin told him about his job. Yoongi is pretty sure he had reacted in the worst possible way as his head transformed into a tomato and he blurted out an uncomfortable laugh that immediately made Jimin’s face crumple into a frown.
You - you do what?
I said, I film myself hyung.
Doing what? Like playing that game? Jungkookie watches those videos, but I thought he was the only one.
No , like touching myself. You know, like - you know, don’t make me say it out loud. That’s how I make so much money. People pay a lot for that.
“I’m not jealous. How did you two meet?”
Jimin finally puts the straw in his mouth, done with teasing his lips against it and Yoongi doesn’t think it’s any better for his hot skin as he watches Jimin’s throat constrict with every sip. He has a pretty neck, elegant and strong looking and Yoongi daydreams too often of kissing along his skin and feeling his heart flutter under his lips.
“He dates my dance instructor’s assistant. They’re trying to get an apartment together and he could use the money.”
A breath of relief passes over Yoongi’s lips and it doesn’t go unnoticed. He avoids the topic of it though, nudging his head towards where Hoseok talks to the new staff member, a serious look on his face as he explains something while constantly glancing towards them.
“What do you think today’s story is?”
Jimin looks thoughtful as he teases his damn tongue against the straw again, amusement brewing on his expression the longer he thinks. “I’m the last of the Emperor’s bloodline but I had to run away from home before my parents forced me to be with a woman to assure the continuation of our bloodline.”
A laugh rips itself from Yoongi’s throat, dragging Hoseok’s attention back to them. Jimin’s eyes go wide with pride before they clench closed, forced shut by his smile. “I’m sure that’s a really tough position to be in, Jimin-ah.”
Jimin sighs dramatically, a pout forming on his lips as his eyes widen in a way that makes Yoongi almost panic with the need to comfort him. “It is. You don’t understand what it’s like, hyung. I can never return home.”
Yoongi grins as the dramatic way Jimin curls a hand to his chin like he’s in mourning. He’s beautiful Yoongi thinks, cocking his head to admire him. He had pretended not to watch Jimin do his makeup this morning, wasting time in the bathroom and acting as if he were really interested in reorganizing the cupboard full of junk and towels because he’s always admired the transformation. He likes the smokey look around his eyes just as much as he likes when Jimin’s face is bare, which is a rare sight and only ever for Yoongi’s eyes.
There’s a delicate sharpness to Jimin’s face, but there’s something so soft about him that it’s easy to forget that his jaw could slice through the diamonds dangling from his ears. His lips are pillowy and always slick from Jimin constantly licking them, and Yoongi often wonders what they taste like - whether he still uses the cherry chapstick or the mint one as his lips are always smooth and never dry despite constantly licking them.
His hands are petite and dainty, always flitting through the air or rubbing over his skin and through his hair, searching out to find Yoongi whenever they’re close to each other. He is touchy and Yoongi loves it, even though his stomach seizes up so tightly when Jimin touches him that he feels as if he might rip one of the thin muscles in his abdomen.
As much delicacy that holds onto Jimin, there’s a strength that radiates from him. He looks as if he’d be soft and plush, but Yoongi knows he’s covered in thick muscle and could probably knock him out with one punch. He’s seen it before one night out drinking their first year together. Someone approached them, drunk off their ass with the intent to grab Jimin’s ass but left with his hands grabbing at a bloody nose instead.
Yoongi smiles fondly at the memory. He wonders what moment he had realized he was in love with Park Jimin but it hardly matters. Every moment that he can remember with Jimin, he remembers feeling like he was in love.
He heard a phrase once, during one of the classes Jimin forced them to take where they spent most of their time watching foreign romance films, that made him first realize how deeply in love he was. Media naranja . He had smiled so hard it hurt when he read when it meant, thinking about Jimin and his stupid love for oranges and the stupid fact that he’s Yoongi’s other half and his soulmate.
It’s a fact that’s true in his heart, he knows this. He’s just too much of a coward to find out if Jimin feels the same way.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Jimin murmurs, glancing at the watch wrapped tightly around his wrist. He wonders if Jimin is working in what he wears now, a silky shirt that clings to his hips and has a collar so low that Yoongi can see the muscles of his chest both where it pops from above the collar and pushes against the fabric. Yoongi knows his jeans are tight, had heard him struggling to get them on in the morning, despite the fact that they’re so ripped it’s like he’s barely wearing anything to begin with.
“Nothing,” Yoongi murmurs, leaning back against the booth to fight off the urge to touch Jimin’s cheek. “I say you’ve discovered the secret to some horrid disease and Big Pharma is after you, wanting to fry your brain so you can never share the secret and kill their corrupt business.”
Jimin giggles, hand waving out to smack Yoongi but he doesn’t make it before Yoongi takes his hand into his own, unable to fight the urge.
It happens sometimes. He can’t always fight off the urge to just touch Jimin but Jimin never seems to mind. He lets Yoongi press the tips of their fingers together before slipping their fingers until they’re hugging each other.
“What do you think New Kid Barista would say if he knew the truth?” Jimin asks, a playfulness in his eyes as he glances at where the new barista stares at Jimin with wide eyes before looking away quickly and blushing.
“He’d probably want to subscribe.”
“Don’t think he can afford to on what you make here, hyung,” Jimin jokes, his smile behind his straw again and Yoongi wishes he would stop touching his tongue to the straw and just take another sip. “If he wanted to watch me get off, he’d have to ask you for your special roommate discount.”
“Yah, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi complains, kicking Jimin under the table as his cheeks grow hot. He glances around, making sure no one has heard them and lets their fingers slip apart.
“What?” Jimin complains. “It’s not like you use it.”
Yoongi presses his lips shut, keeping himself from commenting. When Jimin had told him about his job, he had also told Yoongi that he wouldn’t mind if Yoongi watched. It had been alarming, that the man who flushes and turns into a shy mess whenever Yoongi compliments him in a simple way like ‘hey nice shirt’ would offer up an invitation to his roommate to watch him fuck himself on camera.
The shy boy who couldn’t even tell him that’s what he was doing out loud still offered, invited Yoongi to watch one of his shows.
“I should get back to work before Hoseok actually tells him we’re two lovers on the run or something and he calls the police,” Yoongi murmurs. It’s a common one, Hoseok whispering about Yoongi and Jimin being the next Bonnie and Clyde. His favorite is the one where they’ve killed some European Minister and it had been covered up for months by a clone Jimin had created before his wife finally realized something was amiss.
“Okay,” Jimin whines, rolling his eyes as he reaches out to grab Yoongi’s hand again before he can get up. “Dinner okay? Don’t miss it. I’ve missed you Yoonie.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Jimin-ah. Don’t be late next time, I enjoy walking you to class.”
If there’s a person that falls victim to Hoseok’s rumors more than anyone else, it’s Jeon Jungkook. Yoongi can’t count the number of times his eyes have gone wide with horror or shock as Hoseok’s rambled on. For a while, Yoongi has assumed Jungkook was playing along because there was no way he could believe every story is true, that Yoongi and Jimin have lived such adventurous lives in such a short time, but sometimes Yoongi isn’t sure.
“Yah, Kookie, you’ve seen how high he can kick,” Hoseok goes on, his words coming out quick and excited because he enjoys how enraptured Jungkook becomes in his stories. “He swung his foot right over his head and knocked him out with a heel to the nose. You guys barely got out of there alive, huh hyung?”
Jungkook’s wide eyes turn on Yoongi and Yoongi glares at the both of them. “If it weren’t for Jimin, I wouldn’t be here now.”
Maybe Yoongi loves the stories more than he leads on. Not that he doesn’t love Jimin and his actual story, a simple one about meeting at the Impresso Espresso his first year of college and Yoongi’s first words to the love of his life being ‘that is a stupid drink, dude’ because Jimin loves his orange iced coffee and coffee and fruit just - no .
But he likes how excited Hoseok becomes when he tells them and how amused Jimin is when Yoongi tells them to him.
“Wow,” Jungkook hums, crossing his arms with an impressed expression on his face. “Was that before or after Jimin jumped off the roof to save Yoongi from that speeding van?”
Yoongi presses a hand to his temple, groaning lightly. Hoseok huffs out a loud laugh.
“Before. Yoongi was still denying he was in love then.”
“Really? It’s so obvious though.”
Yoongi stands up then, wanting something a bit more stronger than Sprite. “You’re not one to talk, Jungkookie. Remember when you spent three hours trying to confess to Taehyungie over text message just to text him after and say ‘oops, wrong number’?”
Crimson rushes up Jungkook’s neck and spreads across his cheeks like a wildfire burning through a dry forest. “I - I never did a thing like that.”
Yoongi looks at Hoseok, who is already digging his phone from his pocket where the video proof of Jungkook’s gay panic is saved. Jungkook rushes from where he sits in one of the torn apart chairs from the junkyard quickly, a plea for Hoseok to put the phone away on the tip of his tongue.
He feels a fondness fill his chest as he watches his best friends wrestle and he leaves them to it, padding away into Jungkook’s kitchen. He pulls out his own phone, smiling softly when he sees a message from Jimin.
There’s rarely a time where thoughts of Jimin aren’t present in his brain. When he’s sat in the middle of an extremely boring lecture, Jimin’s smile is on the back of his eyelids and his laugh is ringing in his ears. When the cafe is dead, Yoongi thinks of the way Jimin dances in their living room and falls into fight mode whenever Yoongi teases him. It’s always a comforting thought, one that makes the time pass by pleasantly.
Except when Jimin’s working, his thoughts of Jimin are far from pure and comforting. It actually makes his body tense and stiffer than normal. He feels more embarrassed about his thoughts being read on his face, because if Hoseok and Jungkook knew he was thinking about what Jimin sounds like when he’s touching himself or what it feels like to touch him than the teasing will increase and Yoongi’s poor cheeks can barely handle it.
Yoongi opens the message, huffing out a breath as the selfie Jimin has sent. It must have been taken right after he finished his livestream because Yoongi can see the droplets of sweat down his forehead and his hair is damp. His skin is so red that Yoongi’s heart squeezes tightly in his chest. It’s taken in their bathroom, at an angle that catches the reflection of the mirror and the muscles hugging Jimin’s shoulders and spine, low enough that the top curve of his butt is visible and Yoongi is going to die .
hungry :( where’s my food hyung?
He cusses quietly. His friends insist that his feelings are obvious, but Yoongi’s sure they aren’t. If they were than Jimin would know and he’d be well aware of how Yoongi edges the brink of death every time he flirts or does stuff like this. Jimin is a kind man with a heart that is bigger than his body. He wouldn’t torture Yoongi.
probably wherever your clothes are
Yoongi cusses again, staring at the horrible ‘sent’ confirmation before he shoves his phone into his pocket like he isn’t about to pull it out every three seconds to see if Jimin has messaged him back yet. He gives up on his search for something stronger to drink and finds his keys instead. He had thought Jimin would take longer and he’s mildly happy that it hadn’t.
Maybe Jinwoo or whatever his name was sucked, bringing the show to an early end. Maybe Jimin was thinking about him, that’s why he sent a picture before he was even dressed.
“I gotta go losers,” Yoongi says, padding back into the living room where Jungkook has his arms locked around Hoseok’s chest and Hoseok’s arm is held out straight as a rod, keeping his phone as far from them as possible. “Don’t kill each other. And Kookie, I have a copy on my phone so there’s no point in putting so much energy into deleting it off of Hob-ah’s.”
Jungkook yells something that sounds like a curse on his life and too rude of a comment for him to say to his hyung but Yoongi laughs as he leaves the apartment. He isn’t surprised to see Taehyung in the hallway, as he normally leaves his apartment door open with the hopes of someone (Jungkook) coming over to say hello.
“Oh, hyung!” Taehyung greets, stopping a few feet from Jungkook’s door. “Is Kookie home?”
“Yeah, with Hobi,” Yoongi says, grinning at the brightness in Taehyung’s eyes. It disappears quickly though and Yoongi watches as Taehyung deflates like a popped balloon. “Hobi’s trying to give Jungkook tips on how to hit on his hot neighbor but they’re all pretty extreme like marriage proposals and renting helicopters. You know how Hoseok is.”
Taehyung’s eyes grow wide as he glances down the hall. He rocks on his his heels, his arms swinging backward to clasp behind his back. “Oh. Which neighbor?”
Yoongi snorts, shaking his head as he pats Taehyung’s chest. “I gotta go Taehyungie. Wanna catch a movie tomorrow or something?”
There’s a distant look in Taehyung’s eyes like he hasn’t heard him as he glances at Jungkook’s door and nods despite not listening. Yoongi smiles fondly, knowing he should hint some more but his phone is vibrating again and he’s pulling it out of his pocket and moving his feet quickly across the carpeted hallway.
He presses his head against the wall over the elevator button. Jimin isn’t cruel, he wouldn’t send these things to Yoongi if he knew how he felt.
It’s a front shot in Jimin’s bedroom, taken from the body length mirror he has. Jimin’s almost completely bare, miles of tanned, smooth skin on display and only interrupted by the red material wrapped around his hips. The snap only lasts a few seconds, Yoongi almost missing the captioned ‘I am wearing clothes’ before the photo disappears.
Yoongi rushes home so quickly he nearly forgets that he’s supposed to be bringing in dinner.
When Yoongi does return home with enough take out to feed an entire village, Jimin has put on clothes. Or pants, at least. His hair is damp and flat against his forehead, but he hadn’t washed all of his makeup off and black lingers around his eyes. Yoongi only lets his eyes wander over the new marks on Jimin’s bare skin for a moment before he hands Jimin the bags of takeout.
“Work went well?”
Jimin only nods as he walks off, leading Yoongi to the living room. He grins at the sight, the blankets tossed around from both of their rooms and the table cleared for their food. Yoongi sits where his pillow is pushed to the edge of the couch, admiring the curves of muscle on Jimin’s back and the way they flex as Jimin undoes the bags and boxes to place them onto the table.
“Really good. More viewers than ever before. You don’t have to pay rent this month, hyung.”
Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek. He still will. He doesn’t care how much money Jimin makes, he’ll still pay his own bills. But he doesn’t mention it. His mind is too crowded with thoughts to focus on that.
“Aren’t you worried about people on campus finding out?” Yoongi asks, busying himself with a plate rather than focus on thinking about Jimin getting fucked on camera. “No one will believe you’re in hiding for too long and there aren’t many students around campus with silver hair.”
Jimin huffs out a laugh, knocking against Yoongi’s side. “My face is covered, hyung and you can’t tell my hair is silver with the lighting. I’m pretty sure like, the entire campus actually watches me. Those rumors Hobi hyung spread are the only reason the rumor that it was me didn’t grow. Also, I think he threatened some kid who tried to tell him I was a camboy by telling him my father ran one of the toughest gangs in Seoul and would kill him.”
Yoongi can’t help the way his head whips to Jimin, his neck aching from the force of it. He hadn’t thought about that before. He doesn’t know how much of Jimin’s face is covered. He does own an unnecessary amount of face masks but there’s no way anyone could ever mistake his eyes. Hoseok’s threatened a lot of people with Jimin’s fake mob boss father and with Yoongi, his fake mob bodyguard slash murderous boyfriend.
“You think everyone does - watches you, I mean?”
Jimin nods, unbothered as he slurps noodles into his mouth. “Everyone except for you.”
There’s something in his eyes when Jimin looks at him, a mix of amusement and something else that makes Yoongi’s stomach tumble around like it’s trying out of the school’s gymnastics team. “Are you sure your face is covered well enough?”
Jimin pouts at the avoidance. “I’m sure, hyung. Here, I’ll show you.”
Yoongi starts, nearly jumping from his couch as Jimin reaches for the tablet laying on the end table. “You don’t have to, Jimin-ah. I believe you.”
Jimin doesn’t seem to be listening as he quickly types in the passcode of his tablet, pulling open the screen where his and Taehyung’s face stare back at them. “Why do you think I don’t invite many people over here? So they don’t recognize my room.”
Any ability to speak has flown out the window as Yoongi desperately tries to find a way to tell Jimin that he doesn’t really have to see. Seeing Jimin in video form would make it hard for him to function, he’ll probably die on the spot before he can even eat dinner. He was looking forward to dinner.
“Here.” Jimin falls back beside him, pressing closely into his side as he hands the tablet to Yoongi. The noise hits him first, the sound of Jimin’s voice. It’s deep and sultry, his words coming out slowly the way he does when he explains something that he’s put a lot of thought behind. But there’s a hint of lust in his tone and it just does things to Yoongi.
Yoongi considers tossing the tablet across the room and just buying Jimin a new one the moment it is in front of him. He feels foolish, wanting to cover his eyes when he’s so often thought about how Jimin looks like this.
He sits on the edge of his bed, the camera quality a bit shaky but that’s probably a benefit for hiding identities. Jimin’s face is covered by a white face mask decorated in pink and yellow candies. Yoongi can’t tell since the quality is bad but he’s seen that one enough to know. His hair looks pink rather than silver, from the red bulb that Jimin had placed in his lamp.
Yoongi only takes one glance at the leather straps lining crossing over Jimin’s chest before he’s pushing the tablet back towards him.
“Oh yeah, your identity is hidden well.”
It’s a lie, but maybe Yoongi is biased. He has the ability to find Jimin the moment he steps into the room, despite how many people are in there with them. He’s never worried about losing Jimin in a crowd because Yoongi would find him anywhere.
Jimin shoves into him hard, giggling. “Shut up, hyung. You’re lying to me.”
Yoongi likes this Jimin, whining and soft. At home, he loses a bit of the elegance he clings onto when in public, but only because he seems more relaxed. He’s still delicate but softer, like his hand should be held and his fingers played with while Yoongi cuddles with him on the couch.
“I would never lie to you, Jimin-ah.”
“Bullshit,” Jimin whines. “That’s two lies in a row.”
A smile crosses Yoongi’s lips that he tries to play off by going for the food again but he catches Jimin looking at his mouth before he turns his head. “You shouldn’t cuss, Jimin-ah. You’re too pretty for those words.”
The words slip from his tongue and hang in the air, loud between the two of them. Heat rushes to Yoongi’s cheeks but he ignores it and accidentally dumps the entire carton of noodles onto his plate. Whatever, he’s hungry.
“Pretty huh?” Jimin says, teasing in his voice because he’s a shit. He scooches closer until the warmth of his body is radiating through Yoongi’s clothes. “I can kick your ass with ease, Yoongi. How’s that for pretty?”
Yoongi rolls his eyes, turning to look over his shoulder and taken aback by just how close Jimin is. His face is only an inch away, close enough that Yoongi can see the faded freckles on his nose. He has kept with the cherry chapstick, Yoongi thinks, as the smell hits his nose. “Still pretty just like, badass pretty.”
Jimin snorts, eyes crinkling shut as he pinches Yoongi’s thigh. There’s a new pink tint to Jimin’s cheeks before he buries his face against Yoongi’s shoulder. Compliments and praise are Park Jimin’s kryptonite, bringing him to a giggle mess that has Yoongi’s heart tripping over itself.
“Shut up,” Jimin whispers, the smile clear in his voice. “I will show you how badass I am.”
“Yeah?” Yoongi challenges, using his bored tone to rile Jimin up. “You’ve gotten weak, Jimin-ah. All that chocolate sauce is getting to you.”
Jimin cusses before Yoongi is being tousled back, pushed into the cushions of the couch. The blows to his chest are gentle, knuckles scraping over his shirt but Jimin grunts like he’s putting all of his strength into each punch.
Yoongi pretends to struggle, wailing slightly and begging for mercy as he attempts to grab each of Jimin’s punches. He doesn’t put any strength in them but he does move quickly and his thighs are clamped down tight around him so Yoongi can’t actually move.
“Mercy, mercy,” Yoongi huffs, catching Jimin’s wrist just as he pretends to throw a blow to Yoongi’s chin. Jimin is going for his most intimidating face but Yoongi feels too soft to think he’s actually successful. He’s like a puppy growling, Yoongi wants to pinch his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ve never met a man so strong,” Yoongi pleads, wiggling from underneath until Jimin finally relaxes his grip on him. The lack of shirt reveals that Jimin truly is strong, his chest broad despite his smaller frame and his stomach rippling with muscles that he constantly compares to Jungkook before they wrestle it out too. The only difference is Jungkook actually puts his all into it and Yoongi has to kick his ass when Jimin comes out bruised, even if Jimin wins.
“That’s more like it,” Jimin grunts, still going for intimidating but it’s so ridiculous that Yoongi bursts out in laughter, shoving him off. “There’s nothing pretty about me.”
“Mm,” Yoongi hums, brushing his thumb over Jimin’s cheek when he pushes himself back to sitting, Jimin still in his lap. The pink on his cheeks is pretty, so is the way his eyes flutter and his lips pout. “You can be strong and pretty at the same time, Jimin-ah.”
Jimin looks at him for a moment like he wants to say something but he instead he slides off Yoongi’s lap to grab his plate and settle beside him on the couch, leaving Yoongi feeling a bit awkward, embarrassed, and just kind of in love. “Do you remember what episode we were on, hyung?”
“You were definitely flirting. I’d be careful if I were you. Hoseok-nim said that he’s killed men for just looking at him before. Cut their eyes right from their head and sent it to the next guy who looked at Jimin-ssi as a warning.”
Yoongi stares at the back of the two idiots talking in front of him. They aren’t being quiet at all though Yoongi can tell they’re at least trying to be. The newbie is extremely flustered, cheeks red ever since Jimin came up for his morning coffee with a smile that could steal any man’s heart. It didn’t help that he called the newbie Honey Boy and winked. Yoongi was sure the boy was going to pass out and they’d have to go through the whole hiring process again.
Not that Yoongi doesn’t understand. He’s been under the Jimin spell for so long he’s now the CEO of Being in Love with Jimin CO.
“Yeah right. He definitely didn’t kill anyone. Hoseok-nim said he works for KNPA. Policemen aren’t murders.”
The other staff member, Chan, rolls his eyes. “That could be argued. I still wouldn’t flirt with that one. He’s Yoongi-ssi’s. He might cut your eyes out, or worse, cut your dick off.”
The newbie goes white, eyes bulging and Yoongi lets out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “I won’t kill you kid but keep your hands to yourself anyway,” he says loud enough to be heard, making both boys jump before he turns and walks away and towards the sound of Hoseok’s laughter.
“You have half the staff thinking I’m a murderer,” Yoongi grunts, elbowing Hoseok softly in the side as he pushes into the back of the bakery. He’s surprised any work gets done at the Impresso Espresso between all of the gossip and the fact that their bakers spend half the time getting baked rather than making desserts. Hoseok’s eyes are bloodshot and heavy, but he’s no better than Namjoon who sits on a box beside their dumpster, a bowl of honey bread in his lap and eyes practically closed.
“Not sorry,” Hoseok murmurs with a hiccuped laugh. “You’ve got a murder-y face hyung. The newb asked me if Jimin was single, you know. I told him he’s already half of a whole orange, or whatever it is that you say.”
Yoongi stops his attempts to steal a piece of bread from a very slow moving Namjoon to turn and look at the grin on Hoseok’s lips. “I appreciate your need to tell everyone Jimin and I are dating, but it remains untrue and what if the newbie says something to Jimin?”
Hoseok shrugs as Namjoon coughs and quickly hands him over the joint, which Yoongi passes up to give to Hoseok. He pats Namjoon’s back in concern and rolls his eyes at the big smile that presses into his cheeks and the way his eyes squint closed in a look of pure peace.
“Then maybe you two will get your shit together,” Hoseok says, voice tight with smoke. “He came back yesterday with that same guy. He asked for a venti with extra cream, I just gave him the regular amount.”
Yoongi snorts at the smug look on Hoseok’s face. He truly is his best friend. “Oh wow, you really showed him.”
Hoseok flicks him off lazily. “It’s my job, hyung. I’m the Head Bitch of the Yoongi and Jimin fan club. HBYJ if you will.”
“I won’t and I hate you,” Yoongi complains as he finally succeeds in taking bread. Namjoon looks as if he might fall asleep, eyes following Yoongi’s movements but there’s a distant look in them. Great, he’s going to have to bake and serve coffee while Hoseok fails at training the new kid. “That guy has a boyfriend, by the way. He works with Jimin.”
Hoseok’s eyes grow wide, his expression going frozen like that. It lasts a moment before his lips open and he lets out the longest ‘ah’ that Yoongi has ever heard. “OH, so that’s who that was. Strong ass, or so I’ve heard.”
Yoongi freezes, mouth bulging with food. “What?” he asks, pieces of bread flying from his lips. “You watch him?”
“No,” Hoseok says quickly, panic washing into his heavy eyes. “Kookie told me about the ass. Dude, like half the school watches Baby J.”
With a glance at Namjoon, Yoongi is relieved he’s too gone to be paying attention. Smoking makes Hoseok hyper and Jin hungry, but it makes Namjoon like a zombie or a philosopher, you never know which one to expect.
Hoseok nods, laughing again as he stomps out the joint as it starts to burn his fingers. “I can’t quite tell him to stop without telling him why, you know? Plus, I’m pretty sure he whacks off while crying over Taehyungie, not actually to your orange peel so.”
Yoongi groans lightly, rubbing his temple. “Tell him to stop. He can’t afford that. He almost missed rent last month.”
Not to mention it’s Jimin he’s watching. There’s no way Jungkook can’t tell it’s him, they’ve been friends for a handful of years.
Hoseok falls still again before laughing. It comes out so hard that tears pop into his eyes and his face turns red as he clutches his belly. “Dude - hyung, Jimin gave him money for rent.”
The humor of it all doesn’t miss Yoongi, but he can’t laugh knowing his dongsaeng, his little brother from another, watches Jimin. It makes him feel a little relieved that Jimin’s attempts at disguising himself work that well.
But on the other hand, he’s considering ways to break Jungkook’s computer without being caught.
“I’m leaving early,” Yoongi grunts. “Good luck. Don’t let Joon fall asleep next to the dumpster.”
Jimin is still sat in the corner when Yoongi emerges. He wasn’t supposed to be working today but had covered a shift so Hoseok could train the new kid. It’s pretty dead so he takes his break early, grabs a water and hops into the seat beside Jimin.
His face lights up instantly but he brings his cup up to hide his smile.
“Sorry, that kid is new. Don’t be afraid to tell him your order is wrong.”
Jimin’s brows scrunch at this as he glances down at his cup before popping his lips in an ‘oh’ sound. “I didn’t want the chocolate sauce today.”
Yoongi frowns. He doesn’t like the way Jimin’s eyes divert from him and stare too long at the chocolate free drink. “Why?”
“Why what?” Jimin asks, his wall going up so quickly that Yoongi deflates. “Sugar isn’t good for you, hyung.”
“It’s a non-fat skinny,” Yoongi teases. Relief floods him when Jimin’s embarrassed smile comes back full force, even though it’s paired with Yoongi getting kicked in the shin under the table. “Do you want me to get you some?”
“No,” Jimin insists, his eyes growing in alarm when Yoongi moves to do so anyway. He knows how much Jimin loves the chocolate sauce. They have six bottles at home because Jimin was going through it so fast that they kept running out. “Hyung I mean it, anyway I need your help.”
Yoongi hesitates, really wanting to call the newbie over and demand he bring chocolate sauce with him, but the kid already thinks he’s a murderer and afraid of looking at Jimin. He gives in, sitting back in his seat and focusing on the way Jimin relaxes when he does.
Jimin gives him a long look before he pulls out his phone. The feet of the chair screech as the scrape over the ground, Jimin’s attempt to move their seats closer. “For work.”
Dread rushes through Yoongi so quickly he has to stop himself from swatting the phone out of Jimin’s hand. He’s not supposed to work today, he had told Yoongi the apartment would be sex free tonight as he was supposed to take Taehyung out to rid him of the funk he’s been in lately.
“Jungkook’s a viewer.”
The words come out in a panic that has Jimin whipping his head back. He doesn’t look surprised but huffs out a laugh that makes his shoulders shake. “I know. User prettyjungcock69.”
Yoongi grimaces. “I didn’t really need to know that, Jimin-ah.”
The laughter shakes the table and there are eyes on them as Jimin slaps his hand down against it and pushes at Yoongi’s chest. He’s gorgeous when he laughs, Yoongi thinks, unable to look anywhere else.
He’s enamored, breathless, overwhelmed and head over heels in love. He’s absorbed with every flutter of Jimin’s eyelashes, the bulge in his cheeks, the way a wrinkle appears between his eyebrows when his laughter turns into a nervous energy.
“Does it bother you?”
The question throws Yoongi off and Yoongi shakes his head without thinking. “Hobi-ah says he masturbates while sobbing over Tae, not you.”
Yoongi grins as Jimin throws himself onto the table, arm tucked between his face and the glossy surface as he hiccups into his elbow. Yoongi wonders if he’s high too because he feels light headed as the air of happiness radiating from Jimin wraps around him.
“Shut up,” Jimin chokes out. “I really need your help hyung, be serious for a second.”
Any remark Yoongi is going to make about how serious he hopes it is that Jungkook actually does as Hoseok says leaves him when Jimin turns the phone to him. His first instinct is to shield it and he does, curling further over the table so anyone behind him won’t see the screen.
His heart is being squeezed so tightly he feels as if it may slip through the fist around it and come flying out of his mouth. It’s definitely a picture of Jimin, he’s gawked at his back (and he isn’t afraid to admit it to himself, just not anyone else) enough times to know what he looks like. He just hasn’t seen Jimin like this, hips arched back so the round of his ass stands out. He wears nothing but fishnet stockings, tight around the thick muscles in his thighs, which are thankfully closed so Yoongi sees nothing but skin.
“Oh um. What is this?”
His ass. Jimin’s bare ass. It isn’t new to Yoongi that he has a nice ass, his clothes are tight when he’s actually wearing them and they’ve danced together plenty of times before, but he’s never seen it bare like this. There’s a muscle dent in one cheek yet they are soft and fat, like his cheeks will fill Yoongi’s large hands and jiggle when he moves his hips.
Fuck, Yoongi swallows thickly at the image of Jimin on top of him, ass rounded and shaking as he moves, his skin giving in to the press of Yoongi’s fingertips as he spreads him. It’s a familiar thought, one that frequently enters Yoongi’s mind when he’s trying hard not to think about Jimin when he gets himself off.
“Do you like it?”
Yoongi wants to make a stupid joke to ease the tension inside of him but Jimin’s eyes are wide with that look Yoongi can’t say no to. “Yeah, Jimin. Fishnets are hot.”
Jimin smiles, his cheeks bulging from the sudden stretch. “Okay, and what do you think about this?”
Yoongi thinks he’s going to die. The younger ones joke about him being an old man and he feels it at this moment, wishing he had an oxygen tank and a cane to keep himself from toppling off the high top chair. There’s a leather strap around Jimin’s neck, connected to a multitude of other straps, all adorn with metal, crisscrossing down Jimin’s chest. He knows it’s Jimin although the photograph is cut off at the chin. He knows the moles that dot Jimin’s neck and he recognizes the floral bedding.
“Would you watch something like this?”
Honestly, Yoongi would watch Jimin no matter what he does or wears, but he can’t exactly tell him that. “Um, why?”
Jimin shrugs, a shyness creeping into his features again. “I’m trying to do new things for my viewers so they don’t get bored of me. And since you’re like, the one person resistant to my charms, I wanted to see what you like so I can use it for my videos. Maybe draw in a new crowd of resistant viewers.”
He sticks his tongue out when he says it, but there’s still a flicker of that insecurity in his eyes that has Yoongi wanting Jimin to hear every answer he wants to hear. Resistant to my charms , Yoongi can almost hear Hoseok laughing in the background.
“It’s really sexy, Jimin-ah. Especially if you do that thing with your eyes?”
Jimin snorts. “What thing?”
Yoongi can’t breathe so he’s deciding to just go in for the kill and end up dying here in his favorite cafe beside his favorite man. He brushes his thumb under Jimin’s eye, indicating the eyeliner touching Jimin’s waterline.
“The makeup thing?” Jimin teases, but his voice is low like they’re sharing secrets. “I thought you liked me without makeup?”
“I do,” Yoongi hums. “Both ways, but you’re only bare face with me. Makes me feel special.”
He can feel Jimin’s eyes on him, studying the expression that he tries hard to keep blank as Jimin flicks to the next picture. Each picture is Jimin with his head out of view and sporting an array of different outfits. The colors from dark to gold to pastel pinks that Yoongi knows Jimin loves. He asks his opinion about each one and Yoongi says they’re all sexy because they all are.
“Hyung,” Jimin whines, showing him the last again. Yoongi doesn’t want to look at it, because he can see the outline of Jimin’s cock through the material of the panties he wears and Yoongi feels they’ve gotten to a place that’s borderline overstepping.
A place Yoongi very much would like to be. He just wants Jimin to feel the same way back.
“You’ve said that about every single one.”
Yoongi grins. It’s way past his break time and Jimin might be running late, but he can’t seem to find it in himself to mind. He can’t stand up, not even his apron will cover how hard he’s become. “Because every one looks good, Chimmy. Hey, don’t pout. It’s not my fault you look good in everything.”
Borderline overstepping, but what does Jimin expect when he’s shown him extremely intimate photos of himself? He wonders who has taken them; if Jimin will deny that they are him despite the fact that his bedroom is in every one.
“Then why don’t you ever watch any of my videos?” Jimin asks, a nervous edge to his voice. He can’t possibly know about Yoongi’s feelings, because despite being shy and nervous, Jimin has a confidence that never wavers. If he has a question or something to say, he does so.
If he knew how Yoongi felt, he wouldn’t let it be a secret between them. He’d tease Yoongi endlessly over it.
“‘Cause you’re my roommate Chim. It would be awkward.”
Jimin closes the phone, tucking it back into his pocket before he finishes the last of his drink, which has probably turned warm by now. “Okay, hyung. Thank you for your help. If you um, if you want to come out with Tae Tae and I later, we’ll be at the Golden Closet?”
Yoongi smirks. They haven’t really talked about their best friends being in love, except Jimin’s occasional whining about how he wishes Taehyung would get his head on straight and open his eyes to see how helpless Jungkook is about him. “Doesn’t Jungkook work there?”
Jimin frowns, a determined look on his face. “I have no clue. He’s your best friend, hyung. It’s a shame you don’t know.”
There’s a string between them, tugging hard on Yoongi’s chest as Jimin removes himself from the high top chair and heads off towards the door. Yoongi follows like a puppet, unable to stop himself and uncaring when Jimin leans close him with a smile. “We’ll be there around seven and hyung? I want to know which look was your favorite. I’m determined to convince you to watch.”
Yoongi’s left to stand outside of the Impresso Espresso, smoke trailing from his skin from how hot he burns from Jimin’s words.
There are hundreds of people inside the club. It feels like the entire student population is shoved inside the Golden Closet. It’s hot and Jimin is covered in sweat and bodies around him but he doesn’t mind, he loves it.
He doesn’t mind when despite the crowd, Yoongi’s eyes find him easily. It isn’t really his scene, but Jimin’s heart flutters at the fact that he came anyway. There’s a small smile on his lips that grows into a gummy one when Jimin laughs at his awkward wave.
“You came! Thank God. Jungkook wasn’t supposed to be here tonight and Taehyung is a mess,” Jimin says as he grabs Yoongi’s hands and tugs him into the crowd of moving bodies with him.
“He looked fine,” Yoongi says, pressing close to say the words into Jimin’s ear. He takes advantage of the move, relaxing his weight against Yoongi. It brings butterflies to his stomach being this close, butterflies attached to a rocket being shot off inside of him. “He’s at the bar, flirting it up.”
Jimin groans. He hadn’t wanted to leave Taehyung behind, but he had anchored himself to that damn bar and Jimin wanted to dance . “That’s the problem. He’s supposed to be getting over Kook, not flirting with him.”
Yoongi pouts, his lips pushed out in a way that makes Jimin’s usual struggle in fighting off the urge to kiss him even harder. “Why?”
“Because he loves someone else,” Jimin deadpans with a roll of his eyes. He had been quite sure Jungkook was head over heels for Taehyung until the miserable night he accidentally sent his love confession to Taehyung when it was meant for someone else.
It had been a bad night. Taehyung had jumped in excitement and teared up, flustered trying to figure out how to respond until the ‘oops, wrong person’ message came through.
Yoongi blurts out a loud laugh, eyes bright with humor but it quickly dies away when he takes in Jimin’s frown. “You’re not serious.”
“I am,” Jimin sighs, pulling Yoongi close to him. He doesn’t particularly want to talk about it, not when he has Yoongi pressed tightly against his sweaty body in a crowd full of moving bodies that push them tightly together.
He can’t stop thinking about the look in Yoongi’s eyes when he had showed him his outfits for his livestream. There had been a mix of want, hunger, and an edge of nerves in his eyes. He hadn’t stopped licking his lips and fidgeting in his seat and Jimin wonders what kind of human can be so stubborn.
He knows Yoongi wants him, but he also wonders if that just stems from the fact that everyone wants him. He’s used to people wanting him. It could just be in his head, so he hasn’t pushed it too much. Not yet.
Every person in the god damn world could offer their hand to Jimin and he’d only want Yoongi’s. Sometimes he swears Yoongi doesn’t realize that despite it being so obvious.
“Will you dance with me hyung?” Jimin asks, eyes widening and lips pushing into a pout. It’s a dirty move, he knows Yoongi’s soft for it. “It’s been so long since we’ve danced together.”
Yoongi’s arms are wrapping around Jimin’s waist before he even responds, but there’s a hesitancy in his eyes that fades as Jimin slides his palms over his chest. Yoongi had called him sexy earlier, but Jimin thinks he’s a potato in comparison to Yoongi.
He’s lithe but there’s a strength there, hidden under his skin. He doesn’t show it often and Jimin’s belly always swoops when he does. His fingers are long and bony, delicate looking though Jimin often thinks about the damage they could do to his skin. Everything about his features are soft, from his round cheeks to pouty lips. It’s only his eyes that are sharp, catlike in shape.
His face is usually mistaken as a mask of boredom though Jimin always sees him as pensive, as his eyes are always loud with whatever he is feeling. They always say a lot, which makes up for the lack of what Yoongi says. Sometimes it takes a push to get him to say what he’s thinking but when he does he’s soft spoken and articulate.
Then there are the times he’s loud, where his smile is so big that his gums show and his eyes light up with a shine that could put the sun out of business. He giggles and he jumps, like a kid waking his parents up on Christmas morning.
Jimin is fond for every version of Yoongi, though he particularly likes when his hair is soft and flat against his forehead, tickling towards his eyes like it is now. When Yoongi first went blond, Jimin had sworn he had died, cried and nutted all at the same time.
“You look nice,” Yoongi says, bringing a heat to Jimin’s cheeks. He had chosen the fishnets for Yoongi, remembering how speechless he looked when Jimin first showed them to him. They run underneath his jean shorts, hugging his waist under the loose white shirt he wears. The shirt is a little too big, falling off his shoulder often while he dances, but Jimin likes the feeling of the cool air touching him through the steam that radiates from him.
“Pretty?” Jimin asks. He doesn’t mind the word, though it makes him feel so embarrassed he wants to punch Yoongi and kiss him senseless at the same time whenever he says it.
Yoongi nods, fingers restless where they tap at Jimin’s back, following along with the music. He’s polite, never touching Jimin really. Nothing more than a brush of his thumb on his cheek or a chin on his shoulder.
It’s maddening. Jimin wants Yoongi to push him against a wall or shove him into the couch cushions or something .
Even now he doesn’t touch much, his hands barely felt over his shirt. He doesn’t press too close though he smiles when Jimin presses into him. They used to dance all the time during their first year, but it’s been some time since and Jimin has missed the feel of Yoongi’s hips rocking against his own.
He thinks of it often when he records. Hell, he’s always thinking of Yoongi, but in those moments he imagines it is Yoongi’s hands instead of his own, that it is Yoongi pressing deep inside of him instead of whatever toy he’s using for the night. He wishes it were Yoongi praising how good he looks, though he always looks forward to his viewers' comments.
Sometimes he imagines that Yoongi’s the one leaving them, that Yoongi’s the one that tells him how pretty he is when he’s getting fucked, whispering in his ear that he’s a good boy for him.
God, Jimin has never wanted someone the way he wants Yoongi. It’s consuming, making him trail after the man like a lovesick puppy.
Jimin sighs, carding his fingers through Yoongi’s hair to keep him pressed close as he rocks against him. He feels Yoongi tense up, but it’s only for a moment before Yoongi moves back, falling easily into the rhythm of Jimin’s body.
It’s enough to get the other man to lay his palms flat against Jimin’s spine, the pressure of his touch guiding Jimin’s hips up against his. Jimin’s never been so hesitant with anyone, always confident that his advances will be accepted, but with Yoongi there’s a hint of nerves inside of him that he’ll be rejected.
Yoongi is too sweet for it though. He’s kind and never pushes Jimin away and it’s just confusing. Even if Jimin is wrong and Yoongi doesn’t want him that way, he’d be polite about telling Jimin so.
He’s too polite, that’s why Jimin thinks he needs a little push towards confessing.
“Hyung,” Jimin says loud into Yoongi’s ear, his hand tightening in his hair as the touch of arousal in his belly takes control of the way his hips work up against Yoongi’s. “Dance with me properly.”
Yoongi pouts again, brows furrowing as Jimin bites at his bottom lip and leans back against Yoongi’s touch.
The act makes him a bit breathless but he refuses to let the nerves inside of him win. He curls his hips up properly, tugging on his shirt until it slips from where it’s tucked beneath his pants to get a proper look at the way their hips look together.
Yoongi’s fingers dig into his spine before Yoongi reciprocates the movement, lip trapped between his teeth and legs spreading. A rush of breath escapes Jimin’s lips at the feel of him, the sight of their hips meeting in a dirty grind.
Sweat trails down Jimin’s back, his muscles clenching as arousal stirs inside of him. He’s weak for Yoongi, turned on so easily it would be embarrassing if he cared. His worries of rejection seem fleeting when he watches Yoongi’s face instead, taking in the way his eyes are trapped on where their bodies meet and the sweat that makes his fringe cling to his forehead.
Jimin tugs, pulling on Yoongi’s hair until their eyes meet. It’s in his eyes, the want, the arousal. Yoongi blinks a few times before his hand spreads up Jimin’s back, tugging on the material of his shirt until it’s pulled completely from his pants.
Excitement makes his heart pound against his chest and his hips move with more momentum. Every press of Yoongi’s fingers into his skin encourages him, his thighs straining with the effort he puts into working his hips against Yoongi’s.
Jimin turns before he gives in to the urge building inside of him, pressing his back flush against Yoongi’s chest. He reaches behind him quickly, grabbing Yoongi to stay close before he loses nerve and runs away. Yoongi is quick to grab his hips, though he doesn’t pull him back the way Jimin wishes he would. Polite.
When he’s confident Yoongi won’t leave he lets go to bend forward, back arching to dance against Yoongi’s crotch. He bites his lip at the feeling, the hard press of Yoongi against his ass. Yoongi’s control is maddening, his fingers only flexing over the material of his jeans here and there. Jimin wants to know what will make Yoongi snap, to give in to the lust that seeps into his eyes and betrays that mask of uncare Yoongi tries (and fails) to wear.
Jimin spreads his legs, bending until his fingers touch the ground and Yoongi’s pressed between him properly. He shivers at the feeling before he bounces until his ass smacks back against Yoongi’s hips, hoping Yoongi gets the hint that he wants him to know what it feels like if he were to take Jimin just like this.
Yoongi’s fingers brush over the skin his shirt has revealed once it’s fallen into his armpits, his palm flattening over his spine as he finally - finally pulls Jimin’s hips back to meet his own. He wonders if Yoongi fucks like he dances, pulling Jimin back quickly before grinding forward and letting go again. It’s enough to push a moan from his lungs, his cock already hard and straining against the front of his jeans.
He desperately wants to touch himself, have Yoongi touch him, but when he straightens and returns his back to Yoongi’s chest, he does nothing more but lay a palm flat to Jimin’s stomach to keep the rhythm. Jimin arches his neck when Yoongi’s chin hooks over his shoulder, a silent plea for him to kiss him there.
He doesn’t get much than Yoongi’s harsh breath, but paired with the hard cock grinding between his ass cheeks, he knows Yoongi’s aroused. He wants more, more, but he’s willing for Yoongi to set the pace, even if he feels Yoongi might run at any second.
Yoongi is breathless, and there’s something else coating Yoongi’s tone that has a shiver rushing down Jimin’s spine. He turns slightly, enough that he feels Yoongi’s lips ghosting over his cheek.
“I need a smoke.”
The pounding of his heart triples, but not in excitement. It’s Yoongi’s gentle way of running. He turns quickly, slightly desperate to keep Yoongi there.
There’s a grin on Yoongi’s lips that matches with the look in his eyes and Jimin relaxes some, trying to tell himself that Yoongi is just giving in to his addiction and not actually running from him.
“Can I join you?”
Yoongi frowns, brows crumpling as he grips Jimin’s hips tightly before letting go completely. “Of course?”
He lets Yoongi pull him from the crowd, his body pulsing with adrenaline and arousal. The cool air at the edge of the dance floor hits him like a shockwave and he curls into Yoongi’s back, savoring the heat that radiates from his sweaty skin.
They stop only to check on Taehyung, whose eyes are slightly glazed as he sips at whatever number drink he’s on and drools over the bartender who keeps spilling drinks and laughing nervously every time he so much as glances at Taehyung. Jimin frowns, wanting to pull Taehyung away from Jungkook but he looks on the edge of crying when Jimin insists it.
“I’m fine,” Taehyung promises, kissing Jimin’s cheek messily. “G-go fuck your man and let me try to get mine.”
“Taehyung,” Jimin says firmly, glancing nervously at Yoongi in case he heard that but his eyes are elsewhere. “Jungkook has feelings for someone else, remember?”
Taehyung wrinkles his nose at that, his eye widening with hurt and Jimin sighs, feeling that same pain in his chest. “What a great thing to say to your best friend there, Jiminnie. Real frigging nice.”
Jimin punches Taehyung lightly in the arm. “I don’t want you to get hurt, asshole.”
Taehyung softens, lips parting open but it isn’t his voice that Jimin hears but Yoongi’s. “He doesn’t. Like anyone else, I mean.”
Yoongi’s eyes are wide when they both turn on him, his cheeks bright red from exertion and his hair damp with sweat although his breathing has calmed. He’s beautiful, Jimin thinks, and he wants to layer his pouty mouth with kisses until his own lips break off.
“You said he was trying to figure out how to ask his neighbor out,” Taehyung says, hiccuping between words and Jimin uses his distraction as a way to pull his drink away from him and behind his back.
Yoongi huffs out a laugh, a sound that makes Jimin’s chest feel warmer than his body does. “He is. He’s tried he just like, fails at it every time because he’s an idiot.”
Taehyung sighs dramatically, resting his chin to his hand as he digs his elbow into the bar. “Is it mean of me to say that I’m glad?”
Jimin watches the way Yoongi frowns at Taehyung before shaking his head and laughing again. There’s more to that, and Jimin’s going to press Yoongi for an explanation once his body stops thrumming with want.
Which will never happen, but at least until it recedes enough that Jimin can think about something other than Yoongi’s lips on his. Blame it on the alcohol, or the something that’s just as intoxicating and radiates off of Yoongi until Jimin feels high whenever he steps near the other man.
“Do you want to come to mine?” Jimin asks, affectionately patting Taehyung’s cheek. “We can go whenever you want.”
Taehyung nods as he smiles, a boxy grin that makes Jimin feel a little relieved. “Yah, Jimin-ah, you can show me that monster dildo you were telling me about.”
He flinches back, groaning loud as Jimin hits him hard in the shoulder. There’s a look of offense on his face, his lips forming a curse word but Jimin is turning on his heel and heading straight out of the bar as he tries to run from his embarrassment.
Yoongi catches up quickly, calling his name softly but he doesn’t say anything as he rests against the bar and brings a cigarette to his lips. Yoongi knows he’s a camboy, knows he fucks himself on camera, so he shouldn’t be embarrassed but -
“I’m gonna tell you a secret,” Yoongi says, words dripping from his mouth slowly. There’s a spark in his eyes and Jimin finds himself gravitating to him and away from the trickle of people walking into the bar. “But you can’t say anything? Okay? Promise?”
The nerves have returned but Jimin nods, holding his breath. He watches the way Yoongi’s pouted lips wrap around the end of his cigarette, the cherry sending a cast of orange to his skin before he exhales.
“Taehyung’s an idiot.”
Jimin strikes before he can think about it, shoving Yoongi’s chest and pulling a choked out laugh from Yoongi’s lips that he tries to mask as a groan.
“Kookie’s an idiot too, I’m just saying,” Yoongi says through his laugh. “I don’t get how they don’t see the other wants them.”
Hypocrite, Jimin thinks fondly, a bit desperately. How can’t you see that I want you?
“Jungkook literally told Taehyung he was confessing to someone else.”
This time, Yoongi chokes on his inhale but not on laughter, dragging worry through Jimin who quickly pulls Yoongi from the wall to pat at his back until he’s shaking his head and insisting that he’s fine. He doesn’t expect the laugh that leaves Yoongi’s lips and he wonders if Yoongi had a drink before finding him on the dance floor.
“Sorry,” Yoongi huffs as he folds a hand over Jimin’s hip. Jimin moves closer, wondering if that’s what Yoongi intended by the touch.
“Tae was really upset by that,” Jimin pouts, tentatively pressing his hand to Yoongi’s sternum.
Another laugh, Jimin might just punch him for real.
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whines, flicking his cigarette until the ash tumbles to the ground. “It’s just, Jungkookie meant to send that to Tae he just like, panicked you know? Confessing is scary business.”
Oh, oh . “Don’t lie.”
“I’m not,” Yoongi says softly though his smile is big and pushing into his cheeks. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Jimin-ah.”
The name sends a warmth through Jimin and he pushes closer, relief flooding him when Yoongi doesn’t tense or push him away. He always craves moments where Yoongi’s fully relaxed, not obviously thinking about every move he makes. “And what if that’s a lie?”
“Yah, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi complains, face crumpling. “I’m not lying, just ask Hobi.”
Jimin snorts. “Hobi? You mean the guy who tells everyone that I’m the son of a rich CEO who had to leave home because my stepmother is trying to kill me so I won’t get the fortune she feels she rightfully deserves? But I’m used to the lavish life that’s why I send rich men pictures of my feet?”
Yoongi flushes a bright red color, the chuckle brushing his lips quiet. “Okay, okay. Fair enough. But it’s still true.”
Jimin watches Yoongi carefully, taking in the growth of pink in his cheeks every time he so much as glances at him, which he does frequently before pretending like he isn’t. He doesn’t push away when Jimin inches closer, the grin on Jimin’s face ruining his attempt at being sneaky. There’s a slight quirk to Yoongi’s lips as he blows the smoke to the side and Jimin wonders if he’s aware of the warmth growing between them.
The static of arousal is still on his skin, but it’s joined by the feeling in his chest that Yoongi creates whenever he smiles.
“You know what my favorite story is?”
“Hmm?” Yoongi hums, quirking a brow as he knocks his head back against the wall. He flicks his cigarette to the side but neither of them make an attempt to move away from each other and back inside.
“He told Jiwon-ssi you were an underground fighter before you came here,” Jimin says, giggling softly as he brushes his knuckles against Yoongi’s where his hand lays limply by his side. “And I tried to convince you to get out, worried of you getting hurt but you refused to run unless I came with you.”
Yoongi scrunches his face before shaking his head in disbelief. “Where does he come up with this shit?”
“Hyung,” Jimin laughs. He hopes it’s discreet the way he slips his fingers over Yoongi’s, wanting to intertwine them, but he truly doesn’t care if it isn’t. He couldn’t be any more obvious about his feelings and Yoongi has to catch on eventually. “That’s not the best part.”
“What is the best part, Park Jimin?”
The breath is sucked from Jimin’s lungs as Yoongi presses off the wall and slips their fingers together, making their chests nearly touch.
There’s a confidence that clings to Yoongi that Jimin has always been envious of, has strived to mimic. It makes his heart race and his belly rattle. Often he seems unbothered, even when he isn’t, like he isn’t affected the same way Jimin is.
Like his heart isn’t going toe to toe with his sternum like it’s the underground fighter Hoseok lied about Yoongi being. Like his skin isn’t sparking where their fingers touch and his bones aren’t aching to touch more.
“That despite me going on the run with you and you pleading me to do so, you still haven’t confessed because you’re a, and I quote, ‘chicken shit who is blind and thinks I don’t love you back because I hang out with stupid pretty boys that look like they want their fingers broken.’”
Despite Yoongi often looking unbothered, there are moments when Jimin flirts or touches that he looks anything but - and these are the moments Jimin hopes means he feels the same way. Time moves slowly as Yoongi’s brows crunch and his eyes widen, alarm filling them. It disappears as he blinks quickly, eyes dropping between them as he sniffs.
“He was threatening Jiwon, in case you didn’t catch that,” Jimin huffs out, amused. “Or flirting, I’m not sure. The pretty boy part seemed unnecessary.”
There’s a quirk in Yoongi’s lips as he squeezes his fingers and Jimin sucks in a breath. He had hoped to make Yoongi laugh with the story because he’s a bit addicted and completely in love with the sound, but he had also been hoping for something just - more. Maybe a confession, a sign that Hoseok’s words had been true.
There’s always some truth to Hoseok’s stories, hidden between the outrageous lies.
Taehyung’s told him to never get his hopes up, that it leads to despair and heartbreak, but he had been upset when he said that and Jimin’s never been good at listening.
“Hobi wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“For you, he might,” Jimin whispers. Yoongi’s grin is suddenly gone and Jimin cusses to himself, fingers squeezing tightly around Yoongi’s hand so he won’t let go. He doesn’t, but his eyes search over Jimin’s face and he wonders what Yoongi is thinking.
God, he wishes he knew.
“Why would he need to? It’s just work between you and him, right?”
Jimin nods, teeth dragging over his bottom lip as his mind wanders over what to say next, how to get the conversation down the path he wants it to go to. “Yeah, and if it isn’t? Would he have a reason to fight for you then?”
Yoongi’s lips part a few times, his tongue poking out to press against the corner of his mouth. His eyes are serious, bearing down onto Jimin in a way that makes Jimin lick his lips in anticipation.
He could do everything right to make the conversation go the way he wants to but Yoongi always one ups him, his stubbornness and possible denial stronger than any of Jimin’s charms.
“Come on, let’s go check on Tae and then we can stay or leave if you want.”
Jimin frowns mentally, but he keeps his smile plastered on his lips because Yoongi keeps a hold of his hand, even swings it between them as he tugs Jimin along.
There’s a determination growing rapidly inside of him. He’ll find a way to get Yoongi to confess, one way. Even if he doesn’t confess, doesn’t feel the same way, it’ll be better than just sitting here waiting for him to do something.
For now, he’s content with crowding against Yoongi’s back as he leads him back inside and towards Taehyung. He’s happy that Yoongi understands his need for him to continue holding his hand and remain close, never complaining when Jimin tugs him just a bit closer.
Taehyung is in a better mood once they’ve returned, insisting they drink, which he swears is just to drag Jungkook back over to them. Not that he minds. He likes to see the way Jungkook gets flustered everytime Taehyung reaches out to touch his hand and he really likes the way Yoongi leans around him, back to his chest to talk to Jungkook when he hands off their drinks.
He lingers there too, a protective shield behind him. Jimin never minds the constant attention from others, not truly, but he minds the way Yoongi diverts his eyes and pulls away from him when people approach.
“Let’s dance again, Jimin-ah.”
A shiver runs down Jimin’s spine as he feels Yoongi’s lips brush close to his ear, his voice a low, slow drawl with a hint of excitement and a buzz in it. He looks over his shoulder to see Yoongi grinning lopsidedly.
“Isn’t it past your bedtime old man?” Jimin asks, glancing at the watch on his wrist that tells him it’s a few minutes past ten.
“Yah, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi complains, pouting as he takes Jimin’s hands and tugs him from the stool. “I’m not that much older than you but I am older, please show me some respect.”
Jimin wraps an arm around his neck so he can press his fingers into the thin material of Yoongi’s shirt. Heat radiates from him and sinks into Jimin, pouring out like there are flamethrowers at the tips of Yoongi’s fingers where they tickle over his spine. He had just enough to drink that Jimin can smell it on his breath but not too much that he’s off balance.
In fact, he’s quite sturdy, arms strong around him in the way Jimin likes.
He wants to kiss Yoongi suddenly, or maybe not so suddenly as it’s a thought that’s always lingering in his mind when he’s around the other.
Jimin is jostled to the side as a hard body hits his side, long arms tightening around his neck before Taehyung shoves his face between the two of them.
“Let’s dance,” Taehyung cheers, jiggling the two of them. He jerks back when Jimin bites his cheek in retaliation, a look of offense loud on his face.
“Aw, why did you do that for?”
Jimin only gives him a frown which makes Taehyung break out into a smile, his giggle throaty and low before he is tugging the both of them onto the dancefloor.
“You looked like you were about to lay one right on him. I saved you. Say thank you Taehyung.”
Jimin doesn’t, but rolls his eyes before planting his chest to Taehyung’s and finding room for Yoongi to squeeze behind him. He likes when the crowd is like this, thick and overwhelming.
No matter who is pushed up against him or how loud the music is, he can only focus on the way Yoongi’s hands slip over his hips like he needs to press closer to him despite it being impossible.
And he ignores the knowing look in Taehyung’s eyes because it brings a flush to his cheeks that he isn’t sure he can pass off as being from exertion.
It is late by the time they return home, both their bodies weak from exhaustion and making the long hallway to their apartment seem like a mile. Jimin leans his weight into Yoongi, smiling at the way Yoongi so easily wraps an arm around his shoulder.
“Did you have fun?”
“Mhm,” Yoongi hums, the smirk ever so present on his lips as he finally manages to drag Jimin to their front door to unlock it.
“Doesn’t sound it,” Jimin whispers, pushing for more.
Yoongi’s smirk widens because he knows. He’s used to Jimin quietly asking for more and he’s never been one to turn him away.
“I always have fun with you, Jimin-ah.”
He lets go then, holding the door open for Jimin who hesitates in the hall, debating if he should tease Yoongi about the two hardons he got while dancing with him. It would be an innocent joke if anything about Jimin’s thoughts were platonic, but they’re far from it.
Yoongi raises both brows, lips parting before they clamp shut and he nods. After finding out the truth about Jungkook’s message to Taehyung, he doesn’t mind as much that Taehyung blew them off to go home with Jungkook. “Mine or yours?”
Despite the sweat clinging to his body and the general feeling of grossness, Jimin only manages to clean his face before he’s pulling off his jeans and falling into bed. Yoongi follows close behind, padding into Jimin’s bedroom fully dressed in the pajamas Jimin had bought him years ago, the green material covered in cups of coffee.
He doesn’t miss the way Yoongi glances at the camera equipment set up to the side of his bed before he’s falling beside Jimin, leaving too much space between them.
“Hyung,” Jimin complains, crawling over the cold sheets to curl beside Yoongi. “I’m cold.”
Yoongi huffs out a laugh, relaxing as he curls an arm around Jimin and his fingers go straight to his hair. “Then you should put some pants on.”
Jimin presses his cold toes to Yoongi’s feet, making him cuss quietly. “Don’t wanna.”
“You’re a shit, Park Jimin,” Yoongi mumbles, his voice fond and sleepy. “Don’t touch me with your cold feet.”
Unable to help himself, Jimin bites at his lip to keep his giggle in as he ignores Yoongi and tickles his toes against his ankles. He doesn’t stop even when Yoongi’s complaint is louder or when he kicks back against him.
He stops when Yoongi knocks him to the side, pinning him against the pillows. A rush of breath leaves Jimin’s lips and he wishes he had more than just the moonlight streaming through the window so he can better see the expression on Yoongi’s face.
It would be easy to kiss him like this, all he’d have to do is crane his neck up some and their lips would be touching. He finds he likes the weight of Yoongi on top of him and the feeling of being small underneath him, despite him actually being the one that’s bigger.
“Don’t,” Yoongi grumbles before he wrinkles his nose and bares his teeth, growling playfully at him.
Jimin huffs out a laugh, fondness filling him so quickly it makes him dizzy. He doesn’t mind when Yoongi rolls off of him, because he’s quick to pull Jimin back to his side and he doesn’t say a word of complaint when Jimin’s toes go right back to his ankles.
It’s at the tip of his tongue, the words he wants to layer Yoongi’s skin in. But he keeps them there, swallowing them down when it becomes too hard to keep quiet. He keeps them hidden in his chest until Yoongi’s fallen asleep and the night air is the only one there to hear Jimin say them out loud.
The morning is quiet, the curtains closed enough that only an inch of light seeps through them. Yoongi glares at the crack, wondering if that monstrosity is what has woken him.
He glances at Jimin’s alarm clock, sighing at the late hour. He doesn’t work today, or at least, he hopes that he doesn’t get called in because he’ll have to ignore Hoseok’s attempts to do so and he hates ignoring Hoseok.
Yoongi wastes away in the bed for a few minutes, savoring the silky feel of Jimin’s sheets and the way his pillow smells like his stupidly expensive shampoo. He doesn’t want to get up at all, but the quiet becomes disrupted as the sound of the tea kettle squealing.
He flinches when his feet touch the cold ground and the ache in his ankles, but he manages to find his way to the kitchen. He doesn’t feel as grumpy being woken up at the sight of Jimin, who looks flushed and eyes wide and apologetic where he stands over the stove.
Yoongi would be lying if he said he had any favorite Jimin because every Jimin is his favorite, but he does feel too warm looking at Jimin first thing in the morning. Bare faced and skin shiny, his hair rumpled and eyes heavy with sleep. He still doesn’t wear pants, though Yoongi keeps his eyes up high because Jimin’s shirt really isn’t long enough to cover anything and he found out Jimin’s not a boxer guy the first day they started living with each other.
(He likes briefs that are so tight there’s no point in wearing them and Yoongi’s done enough of his laundry to know there’s underwear that’s - that has the ability to wreck Yoongi’s poor, old weak heart.)
“Sorry,” Jimin mumbles as he scurries over to the coffee pot. He takes the cup waiting there in hand, smiling widely as he offers it to Yoongi. “As an apology gift.”
Yoongi’s fond and he doesn’t hide it as he graciously accepts the gift. “I can’t sleep all day anyway. I have a paper to write.”
Jimin wrinkles his nose in distaste. “I am buried in class work, but I have to shove in some actual work time since I’ve slacked this week.”
Yoongi uses the cup to hide behind, letting the heat soak his face as an excuse for the flush he knows will appear. “Do you want me to leave?”
There’s a look of panic flashing in Jimin’s eyes before he quickly shakes his head and leans back. Yoongi wonders if he’s aware of how effortlessly sexy he comes off, one hand gripped around the counter behind him and the other scratching under his shirt absentmindedly and riding the material up in a way that makes it difficult for Yoongi to look away.
Jimin has the nicest thighs he’s ever seen. They’re strong and toned, but so soft looking that Yoongi yearns to hold them in the palm of his hands. He’s wearing briefs, a soft yellow color that looks nice with his skin.
“I was actually hoping you would stay. We haven’t hung out in a while.”
“We hung out last night, Jimin-ah.”
Jimin makes an offended noise, looking as if he might strike but doesn’t because of the hot drink in Yoongi’s hands. “Hyung, don’t you want to hang out with me?”
“Yah, Jimin-ah, don’t do that -”
But Jimin is definitely doing that . His lip pushes into the biggest pout Yoongi’s seen, his eyes so wide with hurt that even though Yoongi knows Jimin is just being a brat there’s a pang in his chest.
The expression doesn’t go away until Yoongi complains loudly, putting his drink aside to free his hands as they desire to return to their home that is Jimin’s cheeks. Jimin fails at keeping up the pout, a breathless giggle leaving his lips as he curls into the touch.
“I always want to hang out with you, Jimin. Don’t be a brat.”
“Don’t be a brat,” Jimin mocks, his impersonation of Yoongi the worst thing he’s ever heard before they’re both laughing.
Yoongi should have said no to hanging out with Jimin. He should have known it would be a day filled with torture and embarrassment.
He keeps letting out these quiet laughs at his computer screen, constantly touching his nose and playing with his lips. Yoongi practically dies every time his face breaks out into a shy smile, admiring the way he sucks on his bottom lip in an attempt at keeping his smile hidden while he types.
Death actually arrives at the door with a gift basket in hand when Jimin sits in front of the coffee table, back to the couch and to the side of Yoongi’s legs, computer on the table showing Yoongi things that make homework impossible. He seems to be going through his messages, some just words and others containing pictures that Jimin has sent whoever they are.
“Listen to this hyung. ‘Hey Baby J, or more like, sexy J. Here’s something for you in return. I call him King.’”
Yoongi chokes, his hand flying back like a knee jerk reaction until his pencil flies from his fingertips and hits the computer screen where the ugliest cock Yoongi’s ever seen is shown.
“What the fuck is that?”
“It’s King,” Jimin says, attempting to be serious but he fails as his cheeks bulge with the giggle he’s trying to keep in. “It’s a dick, Yoongi. Surely you’ve seen a dick before.”
Heat wraps around Yoongi’s face like a scarf. “D-do people send you shit like that often?”
Jimin nods as he (thankfully) closes out of the private message. The page is filled with unopened direct messages and Yoongi can’t help but lean over Jimin’s shoulder to scan them.
“I think they send them because they think it’s them I’m getting off to,” Jimin murmurs thoughtfully as he continues scrolling.
There are so many and Yoongi knows he shouldn’t be surprised.
“But it isn’t.”
The silence that follows leaves room for Yoongi to ask who or what Jimin thinks about when he jerks off, but he isn’t sure it’s appropriate. His ears burn with his want to know, to know what Jimin likes even though Yoongi knows he’ll never be in the situation to make Jimin feel good anyway.
Yoongi falls back against the couch, his homework forgotten about as his eyes continue to flicker to Jimin’s screen. If he minded, he would turn it away, right? Plus he’s already showed Yoongi intimate pictures and he must not be shy if he posts them publicly, but Yoongi feels hot as Jimin scrolls through pictures he’s posted on his twitter.
He’s so fucking sexy posing in clothing that barely covers him that Yoongi feels like he might combust. Hell, even fully dressed Yoongi feels like both his heart and dick might bust just looking at him.
“Hyung, is it okay if I ask your help again? It’s a little uh, more x rated but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Yoongi is positive he’s made Jimin aware of his inability to ever say no to Jimin. “It won’t.”
“You’ll see me naked.”
Yoongi clears his throat, thankful that Jimin hasn’t turned around to look at him. Fuck. “It’s f-fine. I’ve seen you naked before Jimin.”
Jimin huffs out a laugh, the smile on his lips making him shine bright. “I don’t think strip poker is quite the same, though I’m still bitter that you didn’t even remove one sock.”
There’s a grin forming on Yoongi’s face as he remembers drunk Jimin had been complaining, trying to bargain with him to just take one piece of clothing off.
It was not long after they first met and Yoongi should have known how screwed over Jimin he would become when Jimin shucked off his briefs without hesitation, only leaving him in a shirt. Yoongi had a hard time keeping his eyes away from Jimin’s thighs and Jimin knew , using it against him to try and get Yoongi to lose.
“You can take my socks off now, if you want,” Yoongi says, nudging Jimin with his toes and getting his leg shoved away in retaliation.
“Ah, Yoongi, I’d prefer your shirt.”
Yoongi hesitates as he tries to tickle Jimin with his toes, his face flushing hot before he stares down into his lap. He’s long learned that Jimin loves to be bare, usually stripping his pants the moment he knows he’s home for the night. He wears socks at least, unlike Taehyung who seems to have an allergic reaction to shoes.
“Hyung, which picture do you think is better? That says thank you for a million viewers?”
Yoongi sinks into the couch, tightening his thighs together as Jimin flashes him the screen and the two photos side by side. He’s died and gone to heaven and hell, his body ripped in half and thrown into pure bliss and utter torture.
The picture on the left has Jimin laying down, the top part of his face cut off and showing only his mouth, which is parted obscenely, his tongue pressing over his slick lips. A sheer pink shirt covers his torso, doing very little to cover the way Jimin holds a fist around his length. His fingers are without rings, his knuckles pressing into the material. He holds himself so the head of his cock can press into the shirt, the material so light that Yoongi can make out the flush of his skin despite the material being darkened with precome.
The second has Jimin in a deep red color, the material rippling down his back like waves and spilling over his hips where it’s pulled up. Yoongi huffs out at the sight of Jimin’s spread legs without realizing it, black lace between them. It would be less obscene than the other as Jimin is covered although the material is tight enough to outline everything , but the soft skin on the back of his thighs is an angry red, swollen like it’s been smacked a hundred times over.
“They’re both ah, really nice.”
“Nice,” Jimin repeats, offense in his tone. “I’m going for the opposite of ‘nice’ here, hyung.”
Yoongi lets out an awkward laugh. He feels sweat build at the back of his neck and he can’t take his eyes away from the computer. It’s better than making eye contact and Jimin somehow realizing that Yoongi’s whole body is thrumming with want.
The sight of Jimin’s skin reddened like that is pretty. Yoongi has never thought about touching him like that, or anyone like that, but seeing the aftermath makes him want to try.
“They’re both good, like really good like, if I didn’t know it was you I would probably nut in my pants.”
God, why did I say that ? Yoongi thinks, embarrassment making his throat tight. He swallows thickly, unable to look at Jimin and missing the way he deflates.
“Not that it’s bad that it’s you. You’re sexy all the time, like in anything.”
God stop .
Jimin grabs Yoongi’s hand, a small smile on his lips and delight in his eyes. Yoongi wants to breathe in relief but he just told his roommate, the love of his life who doesn’t know how he feels, that he’s sexy all the time.
“You think I’m sexy, hyung?”
At this point, Yoongi is surprised the fire alarms haven’t gone off as he is sure his skin is starting to smoke from the way he burns. Jimin’s voice is low, soft, and making the growing problem in his pants worse.
“Ah yeah like, yeah.”
Yoongi nods, smacking his lips together. “Yeah.”
A laugh bubbles from Jimin’s lips as he squeezes Yoongi’s hand. “Aw hyung, I think you’re pretty sexy too.”
He’s convinced he’s lost all control of himself and there is a part of him that actually wants to see if it is possible to die of embarrassment as he bares his teeth, pretending to growl when Jimin coos and tickles under his chin.
It makes Jimin laugh and Yoongi doesn’t regret it as much, though his cheeks don’t get the memo and continue to hold onto the red sheen they’re starting to love.
“So which one?”
Yoongi pushes up from the couch quickly, pointing to the computer screen and not sure which one he even points to. “That one.”
“Where are you going?” Jimin calls after him as he starts to scurry away, the pout clear in his voice.
“Jungkook texted me.”
“Your phone is on the couch,” Jimin says but Yoongi is pushing open the door and barreling down the hallway before he can even try to find a response to that.
Jungkook lives in an apartment building down the street and Yoongi gets there faster than he ever has before. By the time he does he’s a bit breathless, a bit less embarrassed and a lot less hard. He grins when he finds Jungkook’s bunny smile upon opening the door, though he hates when the mischief slides into Jungkook’s eyes and his tone becomes teasing.
“What did you do? Tell me, I love when you embarrass yourself.”
“Shut up,” Yoongi grunts, pushing past Jungkook. “I never embarrass myself.”
Jungkook huffs out a laugh as he follows Yoongi, unbothered by the fact that Yoongi slumps onto the couch without attempting to push aside the textbooks laid there.
“You really do. It’s usually always around Jimin and I know for a fact you went home with him last night so -”
Yoongi props himself up on an elbow, throwing Jungkook a frown that does little to diminish the pure look of triumph on his face like he’s really caught Yoongi this time.
“We live together, Kook-ah.”
Jungkook falters for a moment before shrugging. “Well, you looked like you were trying to ram your dick up his ass before you left. Or maybe you were trying to dance, not sure. Either way, when you left he was looking at you like he was about to get the best dicking of his life.”
“Fuck off,” Yoongi responds, his heart twisting in his chest. “I’m surprised you took your eyes off of Tae long enough to notice anything else going around you. Oh wait, didn’t you two go home with each other last night?”
Heat washes over Jungkook’s expression as he slumps into the tattered living room chair. “We live across from each other. There was no ass ramming. Or caressing. Damn, no ass caressing either.”
Ass caressing is not something Yoongi wants to be thinking about, especially not with the image of Jimin bent over fresh in his mind.
“Baby J says I should move on,” Jungkook sighs, catching Yoongi’s attention again. He moves so quickly a few textbooks fall from the couch but the commotion doesn’t pull Jungkook’s attention away from the ceiling.
“Baby J,” Yoongi deadpans. “The camboy?”
Jungkook nods, curling his legs into his chest. “Yes. Don’t laugh. I can open up more to him than Tae, amazing.”
“Why do you say it like that?” Yoongi huffs defensively, a flare of protectiveness filling his chest. “He’s still a person.”
This grabs Jungkook’s attention, his eyes tugging away from the ceiling and his lips falling open in surprise.
“What I meant was ,” Jungkook says, glaring slightly, “is I’m more open about my feelings to some guy I don’t know I just watch whack off instead of the actual literal love of my life who knows everything about me.”
Yoongi shifts uncomfortably. He needs to tell Jungkook, but it also isn’t his place to out Jimin. “Um, well, seeing someone’s dick is uh, um pretty personal.”
Jungkook lets out a sigh. “I’ve seen Tae’s dick though.”
“What?” Yoongi blurts.
“He tried to convince me he had a bigger dick and I was all ‘no way in hell’ and oh god, there was so much way in hell.” Jungkook sounds pained as he holds his hands out before him, definitely dramatizing the size of Taehyung’s dick. “Best dick I ever saw in my life.”
“Okay, I don’t want to hear anymore,” Yoongi complains, holding a hand up to stop him. “Just tell him how you feel, don’t be a chicken shit.”
A loud laugh escapes Jungkook’s lips, startling Yoongi. “Alright, hyung, the hypocrisy coming from you is strong. I know for a fact you ran here, probably running away from Jimin because he made you feel feelings.”
Yoongi stands up from the couch, turning red once again. “You know, I came here to hang out with you not be attacked .”
Jungkook’s laughter follows him as he stomps out of the apartment but it dies quickly when Yoongi stops in front of Taehyung’s door and knocks hard.
“Hyung,” Jungkook hisses behind him, fingers tugging on to his shirt to pull him away from the door. He’s stronger and nearly manages to get him back to his apartment, but they both fall still when Taehyung’s door opens.
Taehyung is all bright smiles, even when his brows crunch in confusion.
“Jungkook wants to caress your ass,” Yoongi blurts before he hightails it down the hallway.
Maybe he isn’t into me, Jimin thinks as he pulls up the stockings he plans to wear for tonight. They’re creamy, contrasting with his dark flushed skin where they stop mid-thigh. Maybe he just made Yoongi uncomfortable.
He sighs, turning in the mirror to admire the soft black panties that cover the top curve of his butt. He doesn’t want to make Yoongi uncomfortable, but he isn’t sure anymore. Yoongi’s not the type to hide how he feels so maybe he just doesn’t feel anything.
It’s just hard to believe, especially when Yoongi comes bounding into his room and stops dead in his tracks at the sight of Jimin. His eyes blow wide as his face reddens and though he glances away, he does so only after raking his eyes over Jimin’s body and Jimin can see the want in them.
“Sorry,” Yoongi mumbles, casting his eyes downwards. “Should I come back?”
“No,” Jimin says immediately. He tugs the hem of his baby doll down, though he knows it doesn’t go much past his hips. He really likes this one, a dark silky red that had been gifted to him by one of his viewers. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’,” Yoongi says with a lift of his shoulders, still looking away. “MighthavetoldTaethatJungkookwantstotouchhisbutt.”
“Excuse me?” Jimin huffs out in amusement. Yoongi tenses when he crosses the room and it stops Jimin in his tracks, heart deflating.
Yoongi is confusing and it’s maddening.
“I told Tae,” Yoongi says with a hefty sigh, finally lifting his eyes. They linger along Jimin’s legs before he rips them up to his face. He’s so red Jimin feels the urge to touch his forehead to see if he’s sick. “I told Tae that Jungkook wants to touch his butt. Caress it, more specifically.”
Jimin can’t stop the laughter bursting from his chest, nor the way he falls into Yoongi due to the force of it. Yoongi laughs weakly, easily catching Jimin so he doesn’t fall further.
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s fucking hilarious,” Jimin chokes out.
His laughter quickly dies as Yoongi runs a hand up his back to rest at the nape of Jimin’s neck seemingly without thinking as his face scrunches and he whines about Jimin’s laughter. Jimin’s body starts like Yoongi’s hand is the key and his neck is the ignition and he plants his hand to Yoongi’s chest before his body drives off on him.
“What did Tae Tae say?”
Yoongi swallows thickly, realizing their closeness but Jimin takes it as a good sign as he doesn’t move away or let go of his neck. “I dunno. I ran away.”
Jimin giggles, tucking the sound against Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi complains again, his lips pouting out and fingers squeezing into Jimin’s neck. “Jungkook is going to kill you.”
“Yah,” Yoongi says in amusement. “That’s why I came running in here. In case he followed. Which, uh, sorry for bothering you.”
The touch on his neck hesitates before sliding to his bare shoulder, Yoongi’s thumb touching the thin strap before he pulls it away completely.
“If Jungkook was chasing you, he would have caught you before you got to the elevator,” Jimin tells him with a grin as he takes both of Yoongi’s hands into his own. “But you aren’t bothering me, hyung. It’s actually perfect timing.”
One more try, Jimin thinks as he watches Yoongi lick his lips and allow Jimin to pull him further into the room.
“I chose outfit two,” Jimin says before he lets go and twirls slowly, showing off his backside. “What do you think?”
Jimin glances over his shoulder to find Yoongi’s eyes rolling over his backside, his fingers twitching against each other where his hands hang loosely by his sides.
Want, it’s want in his expression. Why else would he biting his lip and swallowing like he might drool if he does not? It spurs Jimin on, a grin building on his lips as he shakes his hips.
“I was thinking about getting a tattoo,” Jimin says, using the same tone he uses in his shows, when he tries to get Yoongi to touch him properly. “A bow, here on each leg.”
He touches under his ass, fingers tickling over the top of his thigh. He isn’t expecting Yoongi’s cool fingers to touch his skin and a shiver rushes down his spine when he does.
“Here?” Yoongi asks, his voice quiet and wounded. “That’s - that’s really hot, Jimin-ah.”
It had been something Taehyung suggested, but he hadn’t thought about it until he first wore the creamy stockings and imagined the bows above them.
Yoongi hums, eyes trapped on where his fingers breeze over his skin. Standing close like this makes it easy for Jimin to imagine what it would be like if Yoongi planted to his back and tore the material off of him.
God, he wants it. Soft Yoongi and his tender touches and a bit rougher, bruising his skin and tearing his clothes with an urgency to have him naked.
Jimin swallows, a shyness creeping into him. He can’t back down now, he’s close. Want rolls off Yoongi likes waves but he’s so fucking stubborn.
“You can caress my butt, hyung,” Jimin teases, wiggling his hips. Yoongi’s eyes flicker to his eyes and he removes his touch but he doesn’t step away. “Even out your karma or whatever.”
“The logic was missed on that one,” Yoongi murmurs distractedly.
I just want you to , Jimin thinks, focusing hard on the thought so it can transfer to Yoongi somehow. “I might do a surprise show. If you want to watch?”
There isn’t a response for a moment and Jimin’s eagerness starts to slip away as his shyness returns full force. “I’m sorry if I keep making you uncomfortable.”
Yoongi’s eyes widen at that. “No, you don’t,” he says quietly as he shakes his head. “Why do you want me to watch so much, Jimin-ah?”
It’s Jimin’s chance. He can blurt it out here, the fact that he wants Yoongi to watch because it’s Yoongi he thinks about. He wants Yoongi to watch because it’s only Yoongi’s attention he really wants.
It’s so much more than just sex, though he can’t deny the way his body reacts just being close to him. It’s his heart too that wants Yoongi. He doesn’t just want Yoongi’s mouth marking his skin and his fingers between his legs, but he wants sleepy morning kisses and their fingers intertwined when they walk to the cafe.
He wants to fall asleep with Yoongi and wake up beside him. He wants to tell everyone that Yoongi’s his and that even though all of Hoseok’s stories are made up and outrageous, the constant theme of them being in love is true.
That’s what makes it harder to explain because Jimin isn’t just telling Yoongi that he wants his body but his heart and hand in his own too.
“I want your opinion,” Jimin says instead, giving Yoongi a shy smile. “I know you’ll be honest. What if I’m making a fool of myself and no one is telling me?”
Yoongi groans, maybe in complaint but the rumbling in his throat has heat rushing to Jimin’s core. “I highly doubt that.”
“How would you know if you haven’t seen?”
Yoongi gives him a heavy look but there’s a smile touching his lips. “You really want me to watch?”
Jimin nods, excitement flaring inside of him.
“It won’t be awkward. You - you in here and me in my room just, watching?”
Jimin’s face gets hot. Of course, it makes sense, but he didn’t realize until now that Yoongi will literally be on the other side of the wall. Normally Yoongi is gone when he films, though he wouldn’t really mind if Yoongi heard him.
“What? Want to go watch it with Kookie for some quality bro bonding?” Jimin asks, topping it off with an affectionate punch to Yoongi’s arm.
“Ah, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi complains, his face scrunching up before a big smile takes over. The sudden appearance of it has Jimin feeling winded. “Shut up. Hopefully he’s touching Tae’s butt right now and won’t be able to watch you.”
The flush returns and Yoongi coughs into his fist. Jimin grins. “Why do you care if he does, hyung?”
Yoongi clears his throat again, a frown in his eyes as he backs away with another look down Jimin’s body. “Don’t you have a show to film?”
Jimin wrinkles his nose. They’re a step closer. Yoongi’s finally agreed to watch him, maybe. “If it makes you uncomfortable you really don’t have to.”
Yoongi just nods before he backs himself into the door, his face wincing in pain as the doorknob stabs into his back. “I - I can. For feedback purposes.”
“Feedback purposes,” Jimin repeats.
Yoongi nods as he reaches behind him, struggling for the doorknob despite the door still being cracked open from when he burst in. “Right. And I will hand in my full analysis tomorrow.”
Jimin crosses the room, swatting at Yoongi in embarrassment although he wishes Yoongi would stay and join him.
Maybe one day.
There’s sweat building over Yoongi’s palms as he stares at his black computer screen. He had switched it off the moment the site loaded, nerves making his body react without consulting him first.
He inhales deeply. He truly doesn’t understand why Jimin needs his opinion. Not that he minds. He wants to watch Jimin, to see Jimin like this, but he has always felt like a creep. Like it was inappropriate.
Maybe it is. He isn’t sure.
There’s a whisper of arousal already starting in his belly as he leans back in his chair, catching his reflection in the blank screen. It’s been there since he walked in on Jimin, checking out his own ass in the mirror.
He looked so good, soft with his milky leggings and the silky dress slipping from his shoulders. Yoongi feels embarrassed that he lost a bit of himself touching the back of Jimin’s thigh, embarrassed that such a small touch had his body flying into overdrive.
God, maybe he needs to get laid or something so he can stop popping a boner every time he’s in Jimin’s space like that. It won’t help, he knows. He wants Jimin, he wants Jimin so badly it hurts.
The man is on the back of his eyelids when he falls asleep and seeps into his mind first thing in the morning. His touch lingers on Yoongi’s skin for hours and Yoongi finds himself craving it when they’re apart.
The reason he doesn’t hate Hoseok’s rumors as much as he should is that all of them are about Yoongi and Jimin being in love and Yoongi kind of likes everyone thinking that.
With a huff, Yoongi switches on the monitor. He moves close when he sees Jimin there, the broadcast already started. He sits at the edge of his bed, a black mask secure over the upper half of his face and the lighting a soft golden glow.
Since they parted, Jimin has styled his hair into messy curls that slop over his forehead. His eyes are bare of makeup and Yoongi wonders if that’s because he’s watching.
It’s a ridiculous thought to have but his belly swoops at it.
“ - about you all day. It’s been so hard not to touch.”
Yoongi bites on the inside of his cheek. There's a teasing smile Jimin’s lips and a glint in his eyes. Jimin’s hands rub over his thighs, which are spread in front of him.
“I wish you were here to touch me now.”
There’s a groan building in Yoongi’s throat just by the deep, lusty sound of Jimin’s voice. He speaks softly, his words dripping from his lips and it’s a wonder how Yoongi can even hear him. He presses harder on the earphone, wanting to be completely absorbed by the sound of Jimin’s voice.
“Do you want to touch me?”
Yoongi presses a fist to his mouth as Jimin’s legs spread further and his hands smooth under the silky red nightgown, lifting it to reveal his cock, hard and erect between his legs.
The comments on the side of the screen move so quickly that Yoongi isn’t sure how Jimin can keep up with them. But he looks as if he’s trying, leaning closer to the camera with his eyes scanning over the side. He brushes his hand through his hair a few times, shuffling his bangs and Yoongi doesn’t know how anyone can miss that it’s him.
Jimin stands before he turns, hips arched as the nightgown rides up enough to reveal the mounds of flesh hidden beneath. It’s the same thing he had been wearing earlier, thin black lingerie that does little to cover any of him except the upper most part of his ass cheeks.
The heat in Yoongi’s fails absorbs through his skin and lights his insides on fire as Jimin bends further, hands spreading over his ass before he tugs on the material between his cheeks and lets it slap back against his skin.
It pulls a breathy moan from Jimin’s lips and Yoongi presses a hand to his face, trying to calm the erratic beat of his heart. He always knew Jimin would be the death of him.
“I was thinking about you touching me here,” Jimin goes on, his fingers digging hard into the flesh of his ass before he spreads himself again. “You have such pretty hands.”
Yoongi is hypnotized, unable to pull his eyes away as Jimin touches himself on screen. He teases the viewers and himself, trailing his fingers across his skin but never touching himself where Yoongi yearns for him too. He’s aware that there are thousands of other people watching, but every time Jimin speaks, Yoongi feels like his words are just for him.
It makes it difficult to think straight. Arousal pulses through him, making his thighs clench and his nails dig into his palm as he resists the urge to touch himself in return.
“I want you hyung,” Jimin moans , his palm cupping between his legs. Yoongi bites so hard into his cheek he can taste blood when Jimin whimpers, letting out soft sounds as he rubs his hand over himself.
His thighs tense and tremble as he spreads them, a hand behind him holding him propped up as Jimin strokes himself through the thin looking material. Yoongi thinks about how wet Jimin had been in the one photo and he wonders if he is like that now as Yoongi’s own cock twitches out precome.
He’s already so fucking hard, cock aching between his legs and the urge to touch himself painful. He focuses his attention on Jimin’s pleasure, the tiny gasp he lets out when his fingers slip the material aside.
A groan rumbles in Yoongi’s throat as he watches Jimin’s small hand curl around himself. Yoongi wishes he could move closer to see the flush of Jimin’s skin, to see if he’s slick with sweat. Yoongi wants to touch -
“Fuck,” Jimin whimpers, his palm rolling over the head of his cock. His thighs clench closed before he relaxes them again to lift his feet to the bed.
Yoongi can’t resist the urge to grind his hand between his legs as Jimin starts to stroke himself properly. He can’t resist while watching Jimin throw his head back, his whimpers growing into louder gasps and whines that flood through Yoongi’s system and make his body ache for Jimin.
He wants to make Jimin feel that way. He wants his touch to bring Jimin pleasure and hear Jimin moan his name like it’s a curse.
On screen, Jimin gasps loudly, a whine pulling from his throat before he rips his hand away from himself. His thighs clench and hips buck upwards as if chasing the touch it needs to bring him over edge. He’s trembling, gripping hard into the sheets and fuck .
Yoongi moans into his hand as he presses the other more firmly into his lap.
“Not yet,” Jimin pants, each exhale being tugged roughly from his lungs. “You know I like to come when you’re deep. God, I’ve been wanting it all day.”
Stretching his legs out to rid the tension in them, Yoongi shifts around in his chair as he watches Jimin crawl over the bed. Monster dildo echoes in his head in Taehyung’s voice and he breathes out a shaky breath of relief when Jimin pulls out a regular, normal looking dildo with a bottle of lube in his other hand.
Thank God, Yoongi thinks. Yoongi is by no means small, but he definitely isn’t a monster .
Not that it matters, anyway. This is the closest his dick will ever get to Jimin and he feels too shy to touch himself.
Jimin’s eyes are practically gleaming as he crawls back to the end of the bed before he steps off of it to come up to the computer. Yoongi shutters out a breath, eyeing the realistic looking toy and the ridges and edges around it that mimics the veins.
“I have to be quiet,” Jimin murmurs, slipping his fingers over the length of the toy. It’s easy to imagine what Jimin’s small fingers would look running over him, touching him gently before taking him into hand. “My hyung is here.”
Yoongi skin becomes inflamed as he glances at the wall separating them the same time Jimin looks off screen. He wasn’t expecting Jimin to acknowledge him, or why he needs to be quiet since he asked Yoongi to watch him.
Jimin’s eyes scan over the comments and Yoongi can see his grin growing despite it being hidden under the mask. It really is impossible to mistake him as anyone other than Jimin. Expensive looking earrings dangle from his lobes and cover the entirety of his ear curve. He’s the only boy around with that much jewelry on.
“Can you help me be quiet?”
Yoongi isn’t expecting the tongue that runs deliciously over Jimin’s bottom lip, nor the moan that leaves his own. His lips are swollen and slick as he teases them in front of them camera, biting and licking them before he brings the toy up to them.
It’s fucking obscene the way Jimin takes it into his mouth, plush lips wrapping around the silicone with a moan vibrating out of his throat. He sucks at the tip messily, moaning before he pushes deeper.
Yoongi crumples forward, trying hard not to touch himself when he hears Jimin make himself gag.
He pulls off wetly, spit slipping down the corner of his mouth and smearing over his chin. He breathes heavily, nose flaring with each inhale. When he speaks his voice is hoarse, raspy and Yoongi gives in and unzips his jeans.
“I had to keep it in my mouth when I fingered myself,” Jimin murmurs as he licks his lips. “I didn’t want hyungie to hear me getting myself loose for you.”
Yoongi huffs out at Jimin’s obscene words. After he had left Jimin, he had hidden himself in his room but he hadn’t expected Jimin to be doing that . His attempts at being quiet had worked as Yoongi hadn’t put the headphones on until the broadcast started.
Pulling the jeans past his hips, his cock throbs against his briefs. He doesn’t care that he’s already staining the material with precome, he shivers when he drags a thumb over the head of his cock, feeling the dampness under his finger. Jimin adjusts the mask back to his lips, taking them from view and Yoongi wants to cry to get them back.
“How do you want me baby?” Jimin asks, stepping backwards so the camera catches more of his body. He’s so hard his dress lifts between his legs and tautens the material until it’s tight around his hips. “Bent over? Taking everything you give me?”
Jimin abandons the dildo to slowly ease the straps of his dress from his shoulders. “I like it like that; deep and hard. The sound of your skin hitting against mine - fuck.”
Yoongi groans, rubbing harder at the crown of his cock as Jimin slowly strips the dress from himself. His eyes are heavy with want and dark with lust as he speaks, his tone fluctuating between confident and breathless like the sound of his own voice is turning himself on.
“Wanna ride you too though,” Jimin says with a sigh, letting the dress slip from his legs and revealing the length of tanned, toned skin covering his torso. “That way you can keep your fingers in my mouth, keep me quiet.”
Yoongi’s cock jerks against his touch, wanting to be free from his briefs but Yoongi pays his pleasure little attention as Jimin slips his thumbs under the band of his panties.
“I can’t decide.”
The pout has Yoongi’s hands darting to the keyboard before he can think about it. He types a quick hyung into the guest name before he types, refusing to feel guilty when Jimin specifically told him to watch.
hyung: i want to see u ride me baby, but be loud for hyung
“Fuck,” Yoongi groans, clenching his eyes shut as he rubs his palm over himself. Just the idea of it makes him want to come.
“Hm,” Jimin hums, amusement coating his tone. He tenses as he pushes his fingers lower, slipping under the fabric of his underwear. He lets out a quiet whimper, grinding back against his hand and Yoongi’s moving closer to the screen without realizing it.
How can one person be so fucking hot? Yoongi is quite sure Jimin isn’t real.
“Close your eyes.”
Yoongi hesitates but then his eyes fall closed, his fingers stilling over his cock. He waits, the tension and anticipation in his body building.
“Think of me on your lap, do you want me hyung?”
Yoongi finds his head nodding as his eyes flick back open, not wanting to miss the sight of Jimin retreating from the camera. His back is towards them before he bends, slowly slipping the panties from his hips and revealing the mounds of flesh and the slick skin between them.
“Fuck,” Yoongi murmurs, lifting his hips to remove his own briefs. His cock springs free and slaps back against his belly, precome smearing his skin.
“I know you want to fuck me hyung,” Jimin goes on, stepping out of the panties. A groan tugs roughly from Yoongi’s lips when Jimin spreads himself, fingers gripping tightly into his ass cheeks before his thumb slips between them. “Open your eyes.”
There’s lube drying over his skin and Yoongi watches with his tongue running quickly over his bottom lip as the way Jimin’s hole flutters and clenches. It’s gone way past two things roommates share with each other, but Yoongi doesn’t find he cares. He doesn’t find himself thinking about anything but the way Jimin teases and kneels back onto his bed and dribbles lube into his palm.
He wants desperately to watch Jimin use his toy, to see what it’s like when Jimin has a cock in him. Jimin knows how to build up the tension, taking his sweet time in rolling his slick hand over the toy and gliding his palm between his cheeks until his fingers disappear.
God, Yoongi thinks, watching Jimin’s thumb press over the rim as the rest of his fingers slip inside of him. He lets out a shattered moan, a pinch of desperation in Jimin’s voice and Yoongi knows if he were to pull out his earphones that he’d be able to hear him.
“Fuck, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi groans, hips pressing down hard against his chair as he tries not to touch himself again. He fails, his hand coming up to rub over the head of his cock the moment Jimin kneels with his back towards the camera, face turned over his shoulder and thighs spreading across the sheets.
It’s easy to lose himself in the sight of Jimin lining the toy between his cheeks. He rubs distractedly over his cock, palm rubbing and gripping hard over the head as Jimin lines himself. His chest turns tight, breath getting stuck in his lungs as Jimin tenses. Yoongi can’t see it but he imagines the way Jimin’s head clenches hard around the toy before relaxing as he pushes further.
The muscles of Jimin’s back tense and ripple as he lowers himself, excruciatingly slow. Yoongi sets the pace of his hand to Jimin, easing his fist down the length of his cock in time with the way Jimin slowly swallows up the toy.
Jimin lets out tiny pants and whiny exhales before he bottoms out and rocks his hips. Yoongi groans deeply, feeling the vibration in his chest more than he can hear it through the pounding in his ears. Jimin only hesitates a second before he lifts his hips and fucks himself back onto the toy.
It doesn’t stay slow long and Yoongi’s knees buckle as he strokes himself. Jimin’s attempt at being quiet have failed, his moans loud in his ear and Yoongi rips one ear bud out to hear the way they come through the wall, a second a head of the video.
Mixed in with the slick sound of Yoongi smearing his precome down the length of his cock, his belly tightens with pleasure and the need to come. He bucks up in his hips, gritting his teeth and refusing to make a sound as he drowns himself in the sound of Jimin fucking himself.
“Fuck, fuck, hyung,” Jimin moans desperately, bending forward with a hand on the mattress as he fucks himself fast. His back arches, face falling to the mattress, the slap of his wrist hitting his ass loud and addicting. The camera doesn’t show it but Yoongi can hear it, the way the bed thumps lightly against the wall separating them with every thrust of the toy.
Pleasure makes his muscles tight and the dull ache in his shoulder appears from how quickly he fucks his hand over his fist. It’s messy, precome leaking between his fingers and glazing over his knuckles. He wants to push the feeling away, let go and calm down so he can hold off until Jimin has come, but Jimin’s tensing, a high pitched moan leaving his throat and Yoongi’s grip tightens around his cock.
It’s overwhelming when Jimin turns around, his face flushed and eyes rolling back. His cock bounces between his legs, smacking wetly against his belly with every bounce of his hips. The golden light radiates off of him, making him appear angelic despite looking so sinful.
“Come in me hyung,” Jimin moans, losing his coordination as his thrusts become sloppier. Yoongi bites hard on his cheek, his balls tightening as that feeling of being pulled over the edge hits him. God, he hasn’t feel this desperate to come in so long. “Wanna feel you come in me.”
Yoongi groans loud as his orgasm hits him, hips jerking up into his fist as come slips steadily down his knuckles and streaks out to his shirt. He forces his eyes to stay open, not clench close from the wash of pleasure so he won’t miss the way Jimin’s body jerks and tenses.
Despite being loud during the livestream, Jimin is quiet when he comes. The hinge of his jaw drops as his mouth widens, tongue slipping over his bottom lip. His eyes clench closed, his brow tense as his cock jerks - completely untouched. Come litters his thighs, dribbles over his belly, and Jimin lets out a weak exhale before he thrusts the toy into a him a few more times.
“Fuck hyung,” Jimin moans, breathless and voice shaking. He lets go of the toy, keeping it inside of himself with his ass pressed flush to the top of the bed. He finally touches his cock, hands wrapping around his length and shivering as he strokes out the rest of his orgasm. “Do you think I was quiet?”
There’s a grin in Jimin’s eyes and Yoongi snorts, feeling suddenly fond though his nerves are shooting off in his body like fireworks.
Yoongi pushes the second ear bud back into his ear when Jimin’s voice drops back into that sultry whisper. He winces as he pulls the toy from himself and throws it haphazardly onto the bed. His body feels heavy from the comedown, though his cock twitches in interest when Jimin flings his head back and runs his sticky fingers through his hair.
God, he wants to feel Jimin in his lap like that, tight around his cock and thighs twitching against his as he rides him. He wants him after, the both of them covered in come and sweat and kissing each other lazily like they don’t care about the stick on their skin.
He glances at the time on the video, surprised to find that they’re nearly an hour in. Time has slipped away from him, and it feels like everything happened too fast to already be at an hour.
Fuck, he isn’t ready for Jimin to end the broadcast. He’s thankful when Jimin steps up to the camera, fingers smearing over the come on his belly and moaning quietly. His muscles flutter under his touch and Yoongi swallows at the way Jimin whimpers.
“I s-should ask hyung to help me clean up,” Jimin murmurs, a giggle in his tone. “Do you think I should?”
Yoongi tenses, burying himself against the chair and worried Jimin will actually do that. He already feels himself getting hard again and what did he expect? He didn’t think of what to do after he watched the livestream.
It’s going to be so awkward that Yoongi already wants to call his landlord, pay off the lease, and disappear from town like he has done in almost all of Hoseok’s stories.
“Or do you want a taste?” Jimin asks, pulling his come covered fingers away from his skin. “Suck on my fingers until that pretty cock of yours gets hard again, hyung. I’m not done with you yet.”
Yoongi turns his eyes up towards the ceiling before he lets them fall closed. The way pleasure washes through him is like being hit by a car. It yanks the breath from his lungs and fills them with moans instead.
By the time Jimin is finally done and the broadcast has ended, Yoongi is fucking boneless. He stares at the blank computer screen, his body too heavy and arms aching from how quickly he had stroked himself through his second orgasm. The sound of Jimin moaning is loud in his memory, the image of him still staining the back of Yoongi’s eyelids when he closes them.
He feels so blissed out that he doesn’t even think about falling upon Jimin now that the broadcast is over. He sits there for a few minutes, until the shake has left his body and the feeling comes back to his legs.
The panic of awkwardness hits him the moment he steps up to his bedroom door and realizes he has to walk past Jimin’s to get to the bathroom.
Yoongi grabs for his laundry basket instead, tossing his soiled shirt into it before quickly stripping down. He glances around, only finding hand sanitizer and shrugs as he takes another shirt to clean himself off with it.
His heart is pounding again by the time he’s pulling on new briefs and sweatpants. He doesn’t hear Jimin, but that doesn’t mean a thing. Jimin had said he stretched himself open before going live and Yoongi hadn’t even known.
His stomach is a rumble of nerves as he faces his door for a second time. What should he do? Punch Jimin in the arm and tell him good job? Admit that he’s never came so hard in his life? He feels how hot his cheeks are and since they’re always like that with Jimin, he hopes he doesn’t notice.
God, what if Jimin knew it was him telling him to be loud? There is no way he could but what if he did .
Fuck, Yoongi’s burning the apartment down so he can move to another country.
Yoongi freezes, hand hesitating over the door knob. Jimin’s voice is just as raspy as it had been after he fucked himself, but now it’s hesitant and missing the drip of arousal in his tone.
“Jungkook’s here, looking for you.”
It’s either a blessing or a curse, Yoongi can’t decide but it gives him the courage to finally open the door. Jimin is standing there, a hesitant look in his wide eyes before a smirk slowly finds its way to his lips.
He looks so soft, skin still sweaty and flushed and hair plastered to his forehead. He wears a loose shirt over joggers, tight ones that hug his hips and Yoongi tries not to glance down and think about how he had just watched Jimin completely bare, cock smacking back against his belly as he fucked himself.
“Tell him I’m not here.”
Jimin’s grin grows and stretches up into his eyes. He crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame. He nibbles at his lips and Yoongi moves closer, wanting to shield his room from Jimin’s view even though he doesn’t think there’s anything incriminating for him to see.
He should already know that Yoongi watched him, that it would be impossible for any person not to touch themselves while doing so. Yet for some reason, he’s mortified of Jimin finding out.
“Busy?” Jimin asks, wagging a brow at him as he lifts his chin. He’s taller than Yoongi, but there’s so often he makes Yoongi feel as if he’s towering over him.
“Nope,” Yoongi says, smacking his lips together.
“You’ve changed clothes, going somewhere?”
Heat creeps down Yoongi’s neck as he glances at his own outfit in surprise. He didn’t think Jimin would mention it but Jimin is of course, a shit.
Yoongi sniffles, rubbing at his chin as he shakes his head. Jimin’s eyes are filled with amusement, bearing down hard at him. Not a little shit, a big shit, whose tongue drags over his teeth and presses into the corner of his mouth like he knows that’s exactly what Yoongi wants to do to him.
“Nah, I was doing some research,” Yoongi plays along, though his confidence slips away due to nerves. “I uh, have to write my opinion and hand it in by Monday.”
Jimin presses his lips tightly together, fighting off a grin as he lifts his hand and traces the shape of Yoongi’s collarbone with the tips of his fingers. The sudden contact has Yoongi’s body jolting and moving closer without thinking.
“A one word summary should do fine,” Jimin murmurs lowly, his bright eyes searching over Yoongi’s face and he can’t breathe.
This is it - and he doesn’t know how to read Jimin. Yoongi presses his forearm against the door frame, curling closer as Jimin’s fingers slip under the collar of his shirt. There’s want in his eyes, but he also just made himself come twice in a row. Jimin is a touchy person that loves attention, he could be seeking it out the way Yoongi does after he’s fucked someone.
Not that Yoongi minds. Jimin could use the shit out of him and he wouldn’t care.
“I don’t think one word would do it justice,” Yoongi breathes anxiously. He’s so close he can almost feel Jimin’s breath on his skin, or maybe that’s his own. He suddenly can’t breathe at all, his lungs squeezing so tightly in his chest that his vision is starting to go.
“That bad?” Jimin whispers, frowning as his finger slips over Yoongi’s Adam’s Apple.
Yoongi shakes his head, his fingers itching to touch. He panics for a moment before thinking fuck it. He can caress Jimin’s cheek without it being weird, especially after that.
“I think you’ve found a new viewer.”
Jimin’s face lights up, his teeth digging into his smile and doing little to keep it from punching his cheeks upwards. He cocks his head to the side, shoulders coming up like they want to touch his ears and he looks shy.
He just did all that on camera - made Yoongi watch and has the audacity to look shy .
Yoongi is in love.
When Yoongi thinks he may respond, lips opening, he’s confused as a long whine sounds down the hallway. He had forgotten why Jimin had came to his door and he startles at the sight of Jungkook walking down the hallway.
He pulls away, dread filling him at the look on Jungkook’s face. He looks as if he’s just won the lottery and found out the most incriminating information on Yoongi that he plans on using over him for the rest of his life.
Jimin doesn’t pull away, doesn’t even turn to face Jungkook as he trails his hand down Yoongi’s chest. His skin is still hot from before and he wonders if Jimin can feel it through his shirt.
“Hyung step aside, I’m here to kill your boyfriend.”
Yoongi tenses, his stomach tightening as Jimin’s hand trails there. Jimin whips around and by the way Jungkook falters, Yoongi knows he is scowling.
Out of all of them, Jungkook is the strongest, but he’s also the only one that’s afraid of Jimin. Jimin’s kicked his ass too many times for him not to be.
“I thought you would be grateful to hyung for telling Tae what you could not, no?”
Jungkook peers his eyes at Jimin, his skin quickly flushing. “I’d like to be more eloquent than ‘let me touch your butt’, thanks. And it didn’t even work!”
Jimin giggles, leaning back against Yoongi and his breath leaves him again as he takes in the scent of Jimin. He smells of sex, of come and sweat and it makes Yoongi want to lick over his skin. “Did he let you touch his butt?” Jimin asks as Yoongi says, “I said caress his ass actually.”
Jungkook glances from Yoongi to Jimin before his eyes go wide. “Did - did you guys fuck?”
A loud groan leaves his lips when Jimin strikes, punching towards him and Yoongi fails at grabbing his arm and stopping him in time. Jungkook’s pained but the amusement is still loud in his expression.
“Oh god, did you guys? You guys totally fucked.”
“No,” Jimin and Yoongi say at the same time. Jimin’s ears are just as red as Yoongi’s face feels. He doesn’t move away and Yoongi keeps a hand on his hip, his excuse being he doesn’t want Jimin to punch Jungkook again but really he craves the warmth that radiates from Jimin.
Jungkook rubs at his shoulder, a grin in his eyes when he looks at Yoongi. “Well you should. I know hyung really wants you to. He’s failing all of his classes because he thinks more about eating your ass than paying attention to the lectures.”
Dust fills the hallway with how quickly Jungkook turns on his heel to take off running down the hallway. Yoongi is quick to follow, pushing Jimin aside and missing the look on his face before he takes off after Jungkook.
“Get back here you little fuck!”
“He’s very cute. I heard he’s taken though. Has one of those sugar daddies that will pay his way through college for feet pics. I wonder if it’s exclusive. His hands are so nice, do you see them?”
Jimin bites at his grin, holding back his giggle as he listens to the students in front of him. They keep glancing at Yoongi, who works quickly behind the counter with a bored look on his face. His apron covers his white henley, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.
After running after Jungkook the day before, Jimin has yet to see Yoongi since. He knows his schedule well enough to assume he’d be working today and he feels a little breathless at the sight of him.
There’s been a storm of emotions inside of him yesterday from anxiety to anger to sadness to frustration. None of them have stuck around for long bouts of time, but they always return. He shouldn’t have let Jungkook in and he shouldn’t have let Yoongi run from him again.
“No way,” the girl in front of him says. “I heard he runs with some huge gang from Daegu and he only works here so the police won’t catch on. That boy - you know the pretty one with the silver hair? I heard he pimps him out but it’s more like they’re dating because he gets really bitch if you hit on him.”
Jimin glares at Hoseok, who chatters loudly beside Yoongi. There’s a grin trying to peek it’s way out of Yoongi’s tight lips despite the way he rolls his eyes at everything Hoseok says. He loves Hoseok a lot, Jimin loves that about him.
“Oh yeah, that guy does look like he’d be a whore. The jewelry he wears on one ear is more than my entire tuition.”
It doesn’t bother him, but Jimin can’t help the way he clears his throat and grabs their attention. There’s a feeling of smug inside of him when the girls’ eyes blow wide, cheeks tinting pink at the realization of being caught by said whore.
Jimin ducks forward, eyes lingering on Yoongi as he drops his words into a whisper. “I actually heard he killed two guys for calling his boyfriend that, so I’d be careful.”
One of the girl’s eyes widen, but the other narrows hers in doubt. “Seoyun-ssi said the rumors about him murdering someone weren’t true.”
Jimin shrugs, unbothered as he glances at his nails. “You don’t have to believe me. I’d just be careful saying those things, my boyfriend can be quite mean. But what would you expect from someone who was raised around torture?”
The girls’ eyes widen before they turn around, heads immediately closing together and at least this time they have the decency to whisper. Jimin searches out Yoongi again, smiling softly when he finds Yoongi’s eyes on him.
There’s a pink in his cheeks that seems to be a constant thing of lately. He has foam spilling out over his fingers and he doesn’t seem to notice, his eyes locked on Jimin and nothing else.
It makes his stomach erupt in butterflies. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about how Yoongi had looked after the livestream. His cheeks had been rosy and sweaty, his hair fucked up around his head. And the different clothes - Jimin just knows he must have touched himself, touched himself to Jimin and the thought of that had arousal burning through his system all night.
He wanted Yoongi to come home and maybe they could be done with this at arms length thing they’re doing, but Yoongi hadn’t.
When Jimin steps up to the counter, the new cashier’s eyes widen in panic and glance at where Yoongi approaches with his drink. Their fingers linger around the cold cup before Yoongi pulls away, eyes dropping shyly.
It’s a good sign, right?
“Is it true that you’re wanted in America?”
Jimin frowns at the cashier, who whispers quietly to him from over the register. He shakes his head, fingering the cold cup and smiling at the heart Yoongi has drawn next to his name. “Not wanted. Missings persons. Hyung kidnapped me but it’s difficult for me to hold a grudge when I’ve fallen in love with him.”
Jimin lets his eyes land on Yoongi, who now is stripping from his apron and handing it to a laughing Hoseok. The cashier’s eyes go wide as he hands Jimin his change. He hopes the boy spreads that part of the rumor though Yoongi is so thick skulled, Jimin is sure that if he told Yoongi himself that he was in love with him he wouldn’t believe it.
“I heard of that. Stockholm Syndrome right?”
Jimin shrugs. “I think it’s called Nice Cock Syndrome. Have a good day, honey boy.”
He walks away then, leaving the cashier with his mouth agape to sit in his normal table. He tries to ignore the way his heart jumps and dances in his chest when he spots Yoongi heading towards him, hands rubbing in front of him before he tucks them deep into the pockets of his jeans.
“Jimin-ah,” Yoongi greets softly, sitting beside him and touching his fingers under Jimin’s chin. “You’ve colored your hair.”
A flush creeps to his cheeks as Yoongi touches his hair then, gently wiping his fringe from his forehead. His eyes are filled with something, something Jimin can’t read but makes him feel warm.
“I wanted to be blond again.”
Yoongi hums, a smile on his face that makes his dimples pop out. “Looks good.”
“Sexy?” Jimin asks, cocking a brow.
“Pretty,” Yoongi sniffles, flushing further. He winks both eyes closed and it’s just soft. There’s so much soft around them that Jimin wants to melt.
“Will you come home tonight?” Jimin asks, distracting himself from the heat in his cheeks. Yoongi doesn’t look away, his thumb cold when he touches where Jimin’s dimple is. “I wanna hang out.”
“We’ve hung out every night,” Yoongi hums, amusement in his eyes. “Do you like my company that much?”
“Yes,” Jimin says, deciding not to lie. “You still have to tell me about the show.”
The amusement falters and slips away from Yoongi’s expression. The want returns and Jimin has to stop himself from grinning when Yoongi’s eyes fall to his mouth. “It’s not due until tomorrow.”
Jimin pushes his pout out, making sure his eyes widen in the sad way that always makes Yoongi groan and give in. He even leans closer into Yoongi’s space, liking the way Yoongi always moves to hold him closer.
“You should know it’s good. You have a million viewers for a reason, Jimin.”
Jimin wrinkles his nose. “I wanted your opinion, not theirs.”
“That is my opinion, Park Jimin.”
Stubborn, Jimin thinks, holding Yoongi’s gaze. He’s flustered, Jimin realizes. He’s going for cool and uncaring, but he keeps sniffling and glancing away. Not to mention he’s nearing purple now and his fingers rub over the knobs in his other digits constantly.
“Well, we should at least talk about Jungkookie saying you want to eat my ass.”
Yoongi goes still, his lips half parted and pushed into a pout. There’s alarm in his eyes that he seems to struggle with hiding away. He is successful in doing so after a few moments, though his voice is hesitant and weak and betraying all his attempts to appear calm.
“He was just being a dick.”
“I want you to.”
The words slip from Jimin’s mouth before he can stop them and he glances nervously around the cafe, wishing he hadn’t said that. He can feel Yoongi staring at him and he’s starting to panic, wishing he could run across the cafe and out the door without anyone noticing.
But there seems to be too many eyes on them. The cashier, the girls from the line, Hoseok.
He can do this. This is not the way he wanted to do it, but it’s happening.
Yoongi whispers the word, confusion written on his face and a laugh tumbles from Jimin’s lips before he can stop it.
Only Min Yoongi would respond that way to someone asking him to eat them out.
“If you wanted to,” Jimin huffs, glancing at the table between them because he can’t look Yoongi in the eye. “I mean you could. That’s all I’m saying.”
There’s a warning in Yoongi’s tone but his expression only looks confused and a little alarmed when Jimin finally glances at him. He flushes in embarrassment, worried Yoongi is a second away from shooting him down.
“I don’t want you failing classes over it,” Jimin says with a shrug like he is offering something simple and not his ass. “So like, if you need -”
“I’m not failing classes,” Yoongi blurts. He looks mortified and Jimin would laugh if it weren’t for how nervous he felt. “That part was a lie.”
Jimin grins big and Yoongi’s eyes widen when he realizes what he said. His heart hits his sternum excitedly and he knows it comes out in his tone. “So the part about you wanting to eat me out isn’t a lie?”
“Yah, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi complains, tilting away from him but Jimin catches his hand before he can move away. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“Why?” Jimin asks, giggling as he tugs Yoongi closer. They’re close - this is the moment they stop becoming just roommates though Jimin doesn’t think they’ve ever just been that. He feels like he could break, or ruin the moment at any second. “I’m not making fun of you.”
Yoongi looks distressed as he stands and closes into Jimin’s space. He can’t breath when Yoongi cups his cheek, nor when his thumb rubs over the corner of his mouth.
“You can’t just say that.”
“What?” Jimin whispers, the world around them disappearing as Yoongi’s eyes train on his mouth. All he can focus on is the shallow breaths he lets out and the way Yoongi’s nail hits the edge of his bottom lip. “You literally watched me fuck myself yesterday, hyung. Telling me that you want to fuck me is a lot less intense than that.”
“No,” Yoongi breathes, eyes fluttering shut a few times as he swallows. “Be quiet, someone’s going to hear you.”
Jimin exhales softly. “Everyone here already thinks we’re dating, no matter which story Hoseok has told them.”
Yoongi nods a few times, his head bobbing in response.
Yoongi quirks a brow as he clears his throat. He keeps doing that and Jimin’s growing concern that he’s actually sick and not just nervous. “Why what?”
Now that it’s out, Jimin wants it all out. It makes him nervous and sick but he knows it, he feels it in his gut that Yoongi wants him. It isn’t just Hoseok that teases Jimin about being Yoongi’s boyfriend, but Jungkook too - and those are Yoongi’s best friends.
“Why does Hoseok tell everyone that we’re dating?”
“ Hyung .”
Yoongi’s face crumples into a frown, eyes hard on Jimin as he pulls his touch away. “Because he thinks we’re dating. Or that we should be.”
Jimin breathes in slowly, letting the air fill his lungs so he can keep a straight head. “Why does he think that?”
Yoongi looks pained, a plea for help in his eyes as he sends it towards Hoseok who only throws two thumbs up at him with a smile stretched wide on his face. “He says when we’re near each other he suffocates on the romantic and sexual tension between us.”
A giggle brushes Jimin’s lips and filters the air between them. It relaxes Yoongi some, the tension in his mouth subsiding. “There is stupid sexual tension. You want to eat my ass and I want you to -”
Yoongi complains loudly, shoving Jimin in the shoulder and making him giggle. “Don’t say that so loudly.”
“Tell me if it’s true,” Jimin murmurs, smiling brightly up at him. He’ll touch on the romantic part later. Yoongi might clearly want his body but he doesn’t know about his heart yet. He looks like a balloon that’s been filled too much with air, a second away from popping.
Yoongi looks everywhere but him, the pained expression back before he nods his head.
Jimin swears time stills as Yoongi side eyes him and then nods, and nods again. His head bobs like floating along a river as he swallows and turns his sharp eyes back on Jimin.
“Yah, it’s true Jimin-ah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Yoongi huffs out a laugh, lips stretching back to show his gums. “Well, I didn’t think of it like that. That’s not what I would have said to you.”
There’s a fist pushing into Jimin’s chest, grabbing his lungs and squeezing hard until his breath comes out in a short, desperate puff. “What would you have said to me?”
“I,” Yoongi starts, lips pouted and parted for a second before he shakes his head. “I don’t want just - that, I want to do everything to you.”
God, Jimin feels so hot he might pass out and tumble off the high top chair.
Yoongi cocks his head a few times, those eyes still piercing through Jimin. “Sorry. I thought it was obvious.”
Jimin had thought it been, but he doubted it so often because Yoongi never made a move. “I want you to.”
Yoongi’s eyes drop back to his mouth and his tongue appears, rubbing over his bottom lip and tickling at the corner of his mouth. “To what?”
Jimin breathes through his nose as he takes Yoongi’s hand. The look in Yoongi’s eyes is full of wonder and want and the nerves that light up Jimin’s spine make him want to squirm in his seat. “To do everything. To me.”
“Fuck,” Yoongi murmurs, squeezing Jimin’s hand. He rubs his face with another one, glancing at his work station where Hoseok is now looking at them with surprise in his eyes. Jimin swears he’s tearing up. They’ve been quiet and there’s too many people in the cafe for their voices to have floated across the room.
“Why do you look like this is a bad thing?” Jimin says, pulling his eyes away from Hoseok to watch Yoongi rub his temples like he’s just been told he’s being kicked out of college.
“It’s not,” Yoongi assures, smiling at him. “You just -”
Yoongi reaches up, rubbing a thumb across his chin. His eyes are heavy, staring at Jimin’s mouth. “The things that come out of your mouth.”
Jimin grins, nipping playfully at Yoongi’s thumb when it stretches to press against his bottom lip. This is it - Yoongi wants to kiss him. Jimin doesn’t care if there’s people around them, or that his friends will tease them until the day they die, he wants Yoongi to kiss him and kiss him now .
“You should see what I can do with my mouth,” Jimin murmurs, making Yoongi’s eyes widen once again.
“I have,” Yoongi coughs, his flush running from the base of his neck to the tip of his ears. “I have to go, Jimin-ah. We’ll um, talk about this? Okay?”
Jimin nods, though the unsettled feeling still remains. It’s a big step in the right direction, but Yoongi still hasn’t kissed him and Jimin isn’t sure if he feels relieved or disappointed that he didn’t admit to Yoongi that his heart has been his since the first day they met and Yoongi insulted his drink order.
He isn’t sure how he can begin to tell Yoongi. He’s never been good at words but he wants to be. He wants Yoongi to understand just how loaded with love he is for him.
“Come home tonight,” Jimin says, standing up and following Yoongi’s movements. “We don’t have to talk just yet.”
There’s an implication there and he knows Yoongi gets it, he has to now that he knows how Jimin feels. Yoongi nods, grinning slightly as he quickly pinches Jimin’s chin and jogs off towards the work station.
“You’re a whole idiot.”
Yoongi looks up from where he’s sitting hunched on the edge of Jin’s cargo bed, feet dangling below him. Smoke fills the air between the four of them, swirling in with the vibration of music from the truck’s radio.
“I second that,” Hoseok says from beside him. “I’m also sending Jungkook a fruit basket.”
He yelps when Yoongi elbows him even though he didn’t put any effort behind it and topples from the edge of the car.
“I’m having a crisis. Please be on my side and treat me gently.”
Both Namjoon and Hoseok immediately shake their heads. Yoongi doesn’t bother to turn around and look at Jin, knowing he’s probably collecting all of this in for torture later on. “No way. The love of your life basically asked you to fuck him. I don’t feel bad for you.”
Yoongi glares at Namjoon. The traitor. “He didn’t say that.”
Hoseok huffs out a laugh, snatching the blunt from Namjoon’s fingers and Jin takes his place on the edge of the cargo bed beside Yoongi. Yep, there’s the amusement in Jin’s eyes and the way his nose twitches like a rabbit tells Yoongi he’s about to fall into torture mode.
“He said he wanted you to do everything to him. That’s -” Hoseok whistles and cocks his head the way he does when he’s impressed.
“I regret telling you anything,” Yoongi says as he jumps from the truck bed. “You’re supposed to be my best friend but you’re nothing but a traitor.”
Hoseok snorts, choking on the smoke he inhales. Namjoon smiles big, eyes clenching together and dimples popping out. Yoongi hates them both. At least Jin has had the decency to remain quiet and let Yoongi sulk in peace, keeping him off of Yoongi’s shit list for now.
“Shut up and go home, get laid,” Hoseok giggles.
Yoongi freezes in his steps. He was just about to start walking home but what if that’s why Jimin wants to hang out.
It’s a given after their confessions. Yoongi might throw up.
“I can’t. I’m moving back to Daegu. Tonight. I’ll miss you.”
Hoseok cusses at him, kicking at the ground. “If you don’t go home and make sweet dirty love to your boy, I’m kicking your ass. Go home , hyung.”
“Try not to mess up,” Jin says, eyes bright as he waves after Yoongi. “I heard he has a kitten for a boyfriend, looks cute but will dig his nails into your eyes if you flirt too much.”
Yoongi grumbles, hand flying behind him to flick off his friends, but his feet are moving and though he doesn’t tell them where to go, he knows where they’re taking him.
His nerves explode when he finally gets to their apartment building. His shirt clings to his body with droplets of rain that lucky never came down to hard. There’s a shake in his fingers and he tries to calm it, though he fails and it takes him forever to get the door open.
The first thing he notices is that most of the lights are off or dimmed. The second is the music playing faintly throughout the apartment. He kicks his shoes off in the doorway, his heart lurching up into his throat.
God, he wants Jimin, but he also wants Jimin to know that he’d run off and marry him tonight if he could. He’d live every one of Hoseok’s lavish stories happily if Jimin were by his side.
The sound of Jimin’s voice both calms him and has his heart working double time. He clears his throat, forcing his feet to move across the linoleum floor and towards the sound of Jimin’s voice.
The hallway lights are off and he frowns. It’s hard to see and he doesn’t see the light from either of their bedrooms but he knows Jimin’s voice came from this way.
“Jimin-ah,” Yoongi whispers, a nervous edge in his voice that he doesn’t want Jimin to hear.
Yoongi gasps at the hands on him as the dark, outlined shape of Jimin appears before him. He can barely open his lips and ask Jimin why the dark before there’s a mouth on him, hot and wet.
He hesitates for a total of three seconds before his body flips into overdrive. Jimin kisses him tentatively, hands on his shoulders and body pressing into his front until his back hits the wall.
“Kiss me if you want to,” Jimin breathes against his lips and Yoongi does, god does he want to, tilting his head to the side to slot their lips better together.
Yoongi has spent a lot of his time dreaming about what it would feel like to have Jimin’s lips on his. His imagination hadn’t been good enough to really strum up how it feels. His lips are as soft as they look and gentle, but there’s a pressure in them that is demanding. Jimin hums when he kisses, his hands shifting over Yoongi’s shoulders before coming up to kiss his neck.
A groan leaves his lips and this must spur Jimin on as he presses closer, pushing into Yoongi’s space to bite at his lower lip. Yoongi reaches up, curling his arms around Jimin’s waist to keep him close as a sudden fear of him moving away hits him.
“Hyung,” Jimin breathes, whispering the words against his mouth before he’s kissing him again. There’s an urgency building as Jimin’s tongue licks over the seam, requesting entrance that Yoongi happily supplies.
His body pounds with love and want for Jimin, making his head dizzy and light. He wishes he hadn’t smoked before coming here, because his body lights up with sensitivity at every place they touch. The skin of his neck, hot under Jimin’s palms, the front of their bodies and his thighs where Jimin pushes between, plastering him to the wall.
He knows even if he hadn’t smoked, it would be the same. Jimin is intoxicating, making Yoongi more addicted with every stroke of his tongue against Yoongi’s own.
The hallway is quiet except for the thudding of Yoongi’s heart and the wet sound of their tongues working over each other. Jimin whimpers when Yoongi bites at his plump bottom lip, pushing up on his tip toes to hover over him. Yoongi does it again, falling in love with the whine that tangles in the back of Jimin’s throat when he does.
The dark had been a good idea. His nerves have slipped away and there’s a new confidence, a new desperate need to kiss Jimin until his lungs are burning with the lack of oxygen. Jimin is a flame, a piece of the sun that has ran away to be on Earth and Yoongi would happily burn away just to keep Jimin plastered against him.
“Hyung,” Jimin whispers like a praise, a hint of pleading in his tone as he rubs their lips together. “Do you want me?”
Yoongi is helpless, unable to say no even if he wanted to. But he doesn’t want to. He smooths his hands up Jimin’s spine, planting him tight to his front and nods.
It feels like taking his first breath, though he doesn’t remember what it’s like being born. Confessing has his shoulders slumping under Jimin’s touch and his heart singing for the first time. He’s kept it quiet for so long that he lets his heart belt out the lyrics of his love for Jimin.
Yoongi shivers, clutching tight to Jimin as he pulls away. He ducks forward immediately, letting their noses brush. He might die if he stops touching Jimin right now. He’ll have to drop out of college and quit his job because standing here forever is the only thing he wants to do.
“I want you, Park Jimin.”
Jimin kisses him harder this time, intent behind the way he licks into Yoongi’s mouth. Teeth clash and bruise as Jimin’s hands wander, rubbing down his chest and gripping at his hips. His nails drag over Yoongi’s neck and to his scalp though his fingers are gentle when they tug through his hair.
Yoongi rubs his hands over Jimin’s spine, rucking up the shirt he wears so he can feel the heat that radiates from his skin. Jimin shivers, thighs spreading and pushing Yoongi’s farther, making him an inch down the wall.
It’s hot, the hallway feeling sticky and his skin throbbing from heat as he grips Jimin’s hips. It isn’t slow but Yoongi doesn’t care, he likes the way Jimin bites and groans lowly like he’s as frustrated with the amount of space between them.
Despite being plastered together, hands roaming and bodies as close as possible it isn’t close enough. God, Yoongi wants to drown in Jimin.
“Hyung,” Jimin breathes raspily as he presses his forearms beside Yoongi’s head. His lips feel swollen and sore, but he can’t help the way his head tilts in search of Jimin’s again. “Yoongi.”
Yoongi’s fingers dig into the dimples at the bottom of Jimin’s spine, fingers dangerously close to slipping under the band of jeans he wears. Yoongi’s surprised he’s wearing pants, as he’s been home for some time by himself. He wants to turn on the light, to see if Jimin is as flushed as he is, to appreciate the blond locks that now tumble over Jimin’s forehead, but he’s afraid of losing his nerve.
“Yes, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi murmurs, his own voice surprising him. It doesn’t sound like him at all, like he’s stolen the voice from someone else.
He can’t see Jimin’s face well, but he feels the hesitation before Jimin’s hips tentatively push forward. Yoongi slips his fingers lower, pressing down as a yes to Jimin’s silent question.
“How long have you wanted me?”
There’s a curl in Jimin’s voice that sounds teasing and overwhelmed at the same time. Yoongi knocks his head back, the static slipping through his limbs making it difficult not to grind back against Jimin. His hips work tentatively, slow circles grinded into his lap as Jimin breathes the words over his jaw.
“I thought you said we didn’t have to talk,” Yoongi huffs as a joke, wanting to calm the erratic beat of his heart. Jimin hums, biting below his jaw and the groan that rumbles in Yoongi’s chest makes him flush.
“I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you,” Jimin whispers, breathing the words over the shell of Yoongi’s ear. Yoongi shivers, slipping his fingers under the band of Jimin’s jeans.
Jimin encourages him, moaning softly in Yoongi’s ear and hips working tight against him as Yoongi’s hands slide over the curve of his ass. It’s difficult with how tight Jimin’s jeans are and it’s like Jimin reads his mind as he feels a hand push between their hips as Jimin undoes the button.
“Y-you did?” Yoongi grits out, his body trembling as he feels Jimin’s half hard cock press against his own. Jimin whimpers when Yoongi squeezes, kneading and spreading his ass under the soft briefs he wears.
“Yah,” Jimin murmurs, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s lips and knocking their foreheads together. He grinds with purpose now, hips rocking up against his until Yoongi’s cock no longer twitches with want but throbs with it. “You looked so smug taking my order I wanted to punch you in the face and drop to my knees at the same time.”
Yoongi hiccups out a laugh, the sound tight with arousal as Jimin’s fingers push underneath his shirt. His body is not much compared to Jimin’s, but Jimin touches every inch of him like he has been waiting as long as Yoongi has.
“It was a shitty drink,” Yoongi says as he slips his hands lower, hiking Jimin’s hips higher against his own with a squeeze between his thighs.
The moan that pulls from Jimin’s lungs is beautiful, washing through Yoongi like a wave. Arousal pulses through him, his cock leaking against his briefs as he becomes desperate to hear Jimin moan like that again.
“Shut up,” Jimin huffs, slipping through Yoongi’s fingers and Yoongi grabbles as a panic hits him that he’s said something wrong. He can’t see, but he’s willing to chase Jimin in the dark.
He doesn’t have to, his body tensing when he feels Jimin’s hands on his hips. Yoongi’s hand slides across the wall, desperately trying to search for the light switch as Jimin kneels before him.
There’s a gentle pressure rubbing over his crotch, Jimin nuzzling his nose in his lap. Yoongi bites hard on his cheek, the groans rolling inside his chest and wanting to be let out. “Can I hyung?”
“Fuck,” Yoongi murmurs, reaching blindly for Jimin with one hand. He knocks his knuckles against Jimin’s cheek, pulling a soft, breathless giggle from the other man. “Yeah, yeah.”
Jimin’s cute, even on his knees, fingers fumbling to get Yoongi’s jeans undone, Yoongi’s fond .
“Yeah?” Jimin asks, his voice now like honey. “Want me to suck you off hyung?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer, doesn’t even wait for Yoongi’s jeans to be fully pushed down his hips before his mouth is on him. A groan slips out, hips stuttering up as he feels the heat of Jimin’s mouth pressing hot kisses over the length of his cock.
Jimin moans, a deep throaty sound as his tongue presses hard against the base of his cock before he pulls up. Yoongi wants to rip the briefs from his hips so he can feel Jimin’s tongue on his skin without the material between.
“Hobi was right.”
Yoongi huffs out a laugh, thrown off by the sudden mention of Hoseok and the overwhelmed way Jimin speaks. “What?”
Jimin giggles again, his fingers pushing up Yoongi’s thighs and under the briefs he wears. He doesn’t explain as his mouth latches back onto him, pressing opened mouth kisses over where Yoongi’s cock drips precome.
Relief seeps through him when Yoongi manages to find the light switch, though his eyes close as the hallway suddenly floods with light. He moans when he glances down, fingers digging into the wall when he feels like his knees might give out.
It is obscene the way Jimin looks, mouthing at his cock with his eyebrows pinched in pleasure. He’s flushed, his eyes dark and heavy with arousal when the flicker open and look up at Yoongi before he licks another stripe up Yoongi’s cock.
“Jimin,” Yoongi breathes, cupping Jimin’s cheek and grinding forward. Jimin’s eyes flutter shut, his teeth scraping over him as he plays with the edge of Yoongi’s briefs. “Please don’t tease.”
There’s a grin on Jimin’s lips that makes Yoongi think teasing is exactly what he’s going to do, but he finally tugs the briefs from Yoongi’s hips. Yoongi feels overwhelmed, on the verge of breaking as his cock slaps back against his belly, Jimin’s eyes on him.
Yoongi moans when Jimin licks his swollen lips and glances up at him before he finally touches him again. His plump lips slip over the underside of cock, his tongue tentatively brushing circles over his skin.
With a groan Yoongi slips his fingers through Jimin’s hair, keeping himself sturdy as Jimin’s lips part over the head of his cock. There’s no teasing, no warning before Jimin takes him into his mouth. His teeth tickle over the crown before he’s slipping down, moaning as Yoongi’s cock slips over his tongue.
“Fuck,” Yoongi grunts, head hitting the wall hard as Jimin sucks, cheeks hollowing out. Pleasure pools in the base of his belly at the sight, at the feeling of Jimin slowly working his mouth over Yoongi’s cock. “Jimin-ah.”
Jimin moans, eyes fluttering shut and nails digging into Yoongi’s thigh as he takes Yoongi down his throat. His nostrils flare with each inhale, tears beading over his eyelashes as his throat constricts.
Yoongi is torn between pulling Jimin off and fucking forward when he eyes the tear slip down Jimin’s cheek. He pants, the pleasure rocking through the body as Jimin takes him down his throat dragging him too quickly to the edge. He grips gently in Jimin’s hair, tugging to pull him back but Jimin ignores him.
It takes effort to keep his hips still when Jimin gags and moans, his lips stretched obscenely around the girth of him as his nose pushes into the hair at the base of his cock. Yoongi feels like he’s wrapped in heat, a blanket squeezing tightly around him as his cock throbs with the need to come.
Jimin pulls back with a loud wet sound, breathing heavily as he takes Yoongi into his hand and strokes him quickly. His face is flushed and his lips slick with spit that dribbles down his chin. There’s a fucked out look in his eyes as he pulls Yoongi back into his mouth, not hesitating to take Yoongi back down his throat.
“God you’re beautiful,” Yoongi breathes, his words coming out as short gasps as Jimin gags around him a second time. His thighs tremble with pleasure, his fingers tightening in Jimin’s hair accidentally as arousal shoots angrily down his spine.
“Hyung,” Jimin moans when he pulls off, stroking Yoongi quickly. His voice is raw sounding and it pulls Yoongi over, the rough sound of Jimin’s voice because of his cock making Yoongi’s orgasm hit him so suddenly he can barely blurt out a warning.
Jimin, the shit that he is, flicks out his tongue as the first spurt of come. He closes his eyes, tongue rubbing over the swollen head. Ropes of come cover his cheeks before Jimin wraps his lips around him, tongue pressing into the slit of Yoongi’s cock like he wants to lick out every last drop.
Sensitivity makes his cock jerk in Jimin’s mouth. He rubs distractedly at the come on Jimin’s cheeks, a feeling of amazement and fond filling him when his thumbs rub under Jimin’s eyes. There’s tears and come in his eyelashes and Yoongi feels fond .
“I didn’t think I could take all of you,” Jimin murmurs, stroking Yoongi’s length and ignoring the way Yoongi tries to lift him from his knees with a gentle pressure under his jaw. He’s still hard, curved and erect when Jimin lets him go. “You’re so big hyung.”
“Shut up,” Yoongi grumbles in embarrassment. “I call him King.”
Jimin is halfway standing when a laugh blurts from his lips, his body bending forward and needing Yoongi to pull him up the rest of the way. Yoongi can’t help but smiling, his cheeks hurting as he turns Jimin and presses him into the wall.
His laughter dies slowly but it remains in his eyes as Jimin runs his fingers through Yoongi’s hair. There’s a warmth surrounding them, the heat burning between them both of arousal and fondness. He wonders if Jimin feels that too, if his heart wants him just as badly as Yoongi’s does.
“That mouth,” Yoongi murmurs as he ducks forward, kissing over the come on Jimin’s cheeks before slotting their lips together. Jimin whimpers into it, tugging the strands of Yoongi’s hair and body arching from the wall so their hips can meet. There’s still too much between them, Jimin’s briefs between their cocks as they rub together, their shirts sweaty and sticking to their chests. Jimin fumbles with his shirt, fingers scratching over his back before he yanks it upwards.
Yoongi grins as Jimin pulls it from him and tosses it aside. He wants to crowd Jimin into the wall but he takes his time, admiring Jimin as he slips his fingers under his shirt and slowly eases it upwards.
He has a body that looks as if it’s been sculpted by the gods. His muscles flutter and tense under Yoongi’s fingertips. He draws circles over the muscle hugging Jimin’s hips, his cock twitching at the sight of Jimin’s cock soaking the material of his briefs.
“Wet,” Yoongi murmurs, thumbing over the head. Jimin bucks his hips weakly, his cock twitching back against him as Yoongi’s hand closes around him. He’s small enough that Yoongi’s hand completely covers him, his pinky curling around the base and pointer gripping under the head. Jimin pushes the edges of his underwear down, his thighs flexing open and inviting.
Yoongi rubs his palm over the head of Jimin’s cock, watching Jimin as he whines and arches into the touch. There’s a tremble in his thighs as they clench and widen with every jerk of Yoongi’s hand. Pleasure makes his face crumple and his fingers dig into the back of Yoongi’s neck, pulling him close so he can whine into Yoongi’s mouth.
He’s never thought he’d get the chance to touch Jimin like this, to make him moan with pleasure. He wants to learn everything Jimin likes, every way Jimin wants to be touched.
“Take me to your room,” Jimin breathes, nails digging into Yoongi’s shoulder and pulling him closer despite his words. He breathes hotly over Yoongi’s ear, his breath hitching as Yoongi slips his hand lower to rub his finger over his balls. “Want you to fuck me, hyung.”
Yoongi bites hard on his bottom lip, Jimin’s words making his body pulse with arousal. “Jimin.”
Jimin quirks a brow as Yoongi pulls his hand away to touch his bottom lip. His lips part obediently, taking Yoongi’s thumb into his mouth despite Yoongi only wanting to touch.
“You’re driving me mad,” Yoongi admits quietly. “I want to caress your cheeks and boop your nose even though they’re covered in my come and you’re asking me to fuck you.”
Jimin grins, eyes widening some as he lets Yoongi’s thumb go. Spit connects their skin and Yoongi rubs it into Jimin’s bottom lip, letting out a throaty sound of satisfaction.
“Don’t boop my nose when you fuck me,” Jimin giggles under his breath. “I’ll kick you out.”
“Boop,” Yoongi murmurs with a big grin, tapping his finger at the tip of Jimin’s nose. He rips himself away from Jimin and grabs his hands before Jimin can react, tugging him down the hallway.
He doesn’t bother with the light in the bedroom. With the hallway light and the lights from outside streaming in from his window, he can see enough of Jimin and his room to guide him through it. It’s difficult as Jimin latches onto him, tongue rubbing and teeth digging into the slope of his throat.
The bed hits the back of his legs and he tumbles. He crawls backwards up the bed as Jimin crawls over him, lips searching for each other. He thrums with content as Jimin settles onto his lap and curls his arms around the back of his neck, thigh gripping his waist. He knew he would love having Jimin like this, ass flush against his crotch and grinding lazily into his lap as they kiss. He grunts softly, hands spreading over Jimin’s ass as Jimin’s tongue slips behind his teeth.
It wracks through his mind, the way Jimin had asked for him to fuck him. His nerves dance inside of him, firing off and turning into a frenzy in his gut. He’s not new to sex, but he feels as anxious the first time he ever had sex, that excitement and uncertainty of what he’s doing coming to life. He just wants to be good for Jimin.
“Turn over,” Yoongi murmurs, nipping at Jimin’s lips. He taps Jimin’s butt cheek to get him to move and makes a mental note of the way Jimin’s hips stutter and he moans softly from the touch. “On your knees, baby.”
Jimin’s eyes are blown out as he pulls back to look at Yoongi. He nibbles on his lip as he nods. “Where’d this Yoongi come from?”
Yoongi flushes, the heat between his legs matching the heat that takes over his cheeks. “I’ve wanted to call you baby for a long time.”
The admission is whispered and hangs between them. Time feels slow, as slow as the grin that takes over Jimin’s lips. He’s had his hand on Jimin’s cock, his cock in Jimin’s mouth, and yet he’s more nervous now than he had been before.
Yoongi bobs his head in a nod, tapping his fingers against the flesh of Jimin’s ass. “Okay.”
Jimin grin seeps into his eyes, lit up even by the poor lighting outside of his window. “Okay.”
There’s something growing in Yoongi’s throat, sprouted up from his heart where his love for Jimin is seeded. He feels the vines of it moving through his limbs and sprouting flowers over the nerves that cling to him. They grow under the sunlight in Jimin’s eyes and the heat radiating from his body as he cocks his head to the side.
It’s amazing how quickly he can go from soft to dirty, his eyes falling into lusty as his tongue drags over his teeth. “Are you going to turn me over?”
Yoongi nods quickly, fumbling to push up on his knees and guide Jimin onto his. Jimin giggles, back to being soft so quickly it has him whiplashed.
“Gonna eat you out,” Yoongi announces, hands warming over Jimin’s back as he crawls onto his knees. “Baby.”
Jimin whimpers, head hanging between his shoulders as he arches back against Yoongi’s touch. His skin is soft and hot and there’s an urge in Yoongi to dig his nails across his spine until his skin is blossoming red and needing the soothing touch of his mouth.
It’s hard to breathe with Jimin like this in front of him, legs spread and ass arching up into Yoongi’s hands. He licks his lips, trying to find the inability to inhale as he kneads and spreads Jimin. Jimin whimpers, panting already from the simple press of Yoongi’s hands.
The light glows over Jimin’s skin, sparkling in the diamonds covering his ears. The arch of his spine is beautiful, as is the round of his ass and his cock hanging hard and leaking between his legs. Yoongi groans at the sight, touching tentatively between Jimin’s legs.
“Don’t tease,” Jimin grits out, making Yoongi grin before he ducks forward.
He breathes hotly over Jimin, savoring the way Jimin exhales harshly and hasn’t even been touched yet. Yoongi nuzzles closer, fingers digging into Jimin’s skin roughly as he spreads him. He’s thought about it often, having Jimin squirming and pleading while Yoongi fucked him with his tongue. It makes his heart pound being here now, his lips brushing down the crack of his ass to breathe over his rim.
The room is heavy with the sounds of Jimin’s whimpers and pants. Yoongi goes slow, tongue darting out to lick over his rim. He sucks softly, hands sliding down to the back of Jimin’s thighs to spread him, lowering him farther into the bed as the fleshy part of his ass presses into Yoongi’s face and he feels like he could drown.
Jimin works his hips weakly back at him, the moans bouncing off the walls finding a companion in the sloppy wet sound of Yoongi’s mouth. It makes his ears hot and his cock twitch, Jimin’s thighs shaking under his palms when he pushes his tongue past the rim.
Yoongi groans loudly, feeling Jimin clench around him. Jimin is shameless with need, rocking back against his face and keening, reaching behind him to scrape his fingers at Yoongi’s head like he wants to grab his hair. He babbles between gasps, nonsensical words leaving his lips that has Yoongi pushing up on his knees and pulling Jimin’s hips with him to fuck him deeper.
He pulls back with a gasp, spitting over him to rub a finger at his hole. He slips in with ease, though he moves the digit slowly, watching the way Jimin swallows him up. He grits his teeth, his cock throbbing like he hadn’t just came a short time ago.
“Hyung,” Jimin groans into the sheets. “Please hurry up.”
Yoongi ignores him as he pushes his spit into Jimin, slowly working him open for another digit. Spit dribbles down his chin and runs into his palm, tickling his skin and Yoongi loves it. He likes how messy they are, the smacking and slurping making arousal pound through him in a way that feels as if he could come just from that.
Jimin tenses at the nudge of a second finger, whining deep and low. Yoongi runs his fingers up his spine, kneading out the tension until Jimin relaxes and only the tremble in his legs remain.
“You look pretty like this too,” Yoongi whispers in the air, watching as his fingers spread and stretch the tight muscle. “Pretty, pretty, Jimin.”
Jimin presses up on his hands, fucking himself back onto Yoongi’s fingers with a shattered moan. “I’m bad ass hyung.”
Yoongi grins, biting hard on the flesh of Jimin’s ass as he clenches tight around him. He’s thrumming with want, his fingers jerking desperately with a need to rush. “Bad ass.”
“Fuck, do that again hyung,” Jimin huffs as Yoongi licks over the teeth marks left behind on Jimin’s skin. Yoongi complies without hesitation, mouth hovering over the other side before he bites down.
The gasp Jimin lets out sounds pained and overwhelmed. He cries out softly, head falling between his shoulders and Yoongi bites a third time as he presses in a third finger.
He remembers the way Jimin had so easily stuffed himself with four fingers during his show the other day. Yoongi can’t imagine it, not with how tight Jimin feels around his three. He darts his tongue between, spreading his hole with two to spit inside of him.
“I’m good, I’m good,” Jimin huffs, pulling away from Yoongi but Yoongi chases him, planting his hips to the bed to fuck his fingers into him deeply. Jimin’s entire body shakes as Yoongi presses into that bundle of nerves, grinding his fingers down and enjoying the way the muscles of Jimin’s back ripple as he tense.
“Please hyung,” Jimin gasps. “Please fuck me.”
Yoongi really can’t deny Jimin a thing as he pulls his fingers back with one last kiss to Jimin’s bruised skin. He hadn’t realized how badly he’s shaking until he knees across the bed and tries to open his nightstand.
Jimin rolls to his side, already looking well fucked and holding that glow one has after they orgasm. He grins lazily, eyes planted on Yoongi as he pulls the lube and box of condoms from his nightstand.
He never needed them, never wanted to bring anyone home when the person he wanted was already in his home. But he gave up fighting Hoseok every time he hid them in there, denying Hoseok when he claimed he would need them for Jimin one day.
He should send Hoseok a fruit basket.
“What?” Yoongi asks as Jimin rolls to his back, hands above his head as Yoongi comes close. His legs are crossed, his hard cock peeking out between the thick of his thighs. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Jimin reaches out, playing with the tips of Yoongi’s fingers before he intertwines them and tugs. Yoongi stumbles, almost falling on top of Jimin but catching himself with a hand beside Jimin’s head just in time. Jimin kisses him slowly, tongue easing into his mouth in a way that reminds Yoongi of how he speaks.
“I meant it when I said you can do everything to me,” Jimin murmurs against his lips, a sudden shyness creeping into his features. “But there’s one thing I really want.”
Yoongi hums to encourage him to go on, unable to find his voice. He knows it’s somewhere stuck in his throat, but he can’t pull it out enough to use it.
Jimin brushes his lips against his jaw, reaching between their bodies to touch Yoongi. He curls his fingers around Yoongi’s cock as he bites at his jaw, tongue darting out before finding Yoongi’s ear.
It’s a secret, whispered and only for him to hear. It’s a secret that Yoongi feels like he should have known, one that he doesn’t want to keep hidden away. He wants it to be screamed out, because his heart grows so big he might actually scream.
“I want you to fall in love with me.”
Yoongi huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. Arousal sparks up his spine by Jimin’s touch and love fills his heart from his words. It’s dizzying, intoxicating, everything Yoongi expects from Park Jimin.
“I already did,” Yoongi tells him, revealing a secret of his own as he finds Jimin’s eyes in the dark before their lips touch again.
He rocks into Jimin’s hand, fumbling with the bottle of lube in the other and spilling too much onto his sheets. Jimin seems reluctant to let him pull back, chasing his mouth when Yoongi presses back onto his calves to slick himself.
“You did?” Jimin asks, uncurling his legs to plant his feet on either side of Yoongi.
Yoongi never thought he’d be able to say the words out loud. He’s long denied them even to the people who knew, only allowing himself to be the one who knew the truth. But now he wants the world to know that he loves Park Jimin.
“Yes,” Yoongi huffs. “I’ve loved you since you first asked for that stupid orange drink.”
Jimin looks overwhelmed, the grin gone from his lips as he holds himself back on his elbows. Yoongi’s shaking more now as he slips his lube covered fingers down Jimin’s thighs to position him.
Yoongi nods, swallowing the lump in his throat as he drops his fingers between Jimin’s cheeks, slicking his spit covered hole. “I thought it was obvious.”
Jimin huffs out a pained noise, his brows crunching hard together as he stares at Yoongi. The tension between them is pleasurable like the sweet tight feeling in his belly and the dew dripping from the flowers that have made their home inside of him.
“I love you a latte,” Yoongi says, embarrassment quickly rushing into him but he pushes forward before he can focus on that. It doesn’t stop Jimin from letting out a breathless laugh, though the first press of his cock between his legs has Jimin’s laugh turning into a long moan.
It falls quiet for a moment as Yoongi watches the way his cock spreads Jimin open. His whole swollen and puffy takes Yoongi with ease, clenching with every push forward. The heat makes Yoongi’s eyes fall closed, his lips brushing against Jimin’s knee because he feels as if he doesn’t kiss Jimin he might die.
Yoongi’s name falls off Jimin’s lips like a chant or a praye, his fingers tickling over Yoongi’s chest before sliding back and holding his thighs apart for him.
Yoongi groans, leaning over Jimin to take his bottom lip into his mouth. It’s the best kind of kiss, sloppy and uncoordinated. Desperate as Yoongi bottoms out and slow while he adjusts. Jimin squeezes his thighs tight around his waist, so tightly Yoongi feels his spine could snap and he thinks there isn’t a better way to go.
“I love you a latte too,” Jimin breathes, curling an arm around Yoongi’s neck. “You mocha me very happy.”
Yoongi nose wrinkles from the force of his smile and he buries it into Jimin’s cheek as he rocks his hips. It hurts the way he smiles, the pressure in his chest so great he feels as if a herd of elephants are stomping on his sternum but in like, a good way.
The first pull of his hips backwards has Jimin gasping. He goes slow despite the ball of pleasure in his belly yelling at him to pick up the pace. He wants to savor the feeling of his cock dragging inside of Jimin, the grip of his thighs around him, the look of pleasure on Jimin’s face because he can’t believe it’s real.
“Stop thinking,” Jimin breathes, his fingers ghosting over Yoongi’s cheeks as Yoongi grabs his thighs, pressing them as far back as they can go. He grunts at how easily Jimin bends under his touch, how he desperately clenches around the head of his cock when Yoongi nearly pulls out.
“And fuck me, hyung.”
Yoongi’s hips snap forward, losing any of his want to go slow as he sinks his cock back into Jimin. It punches a moan from Jimin’s lungs, his hand grabbing for the sheets as their skin smacks together. His cock smacks against his belly, flushed dark and leaking until Jimin curls his fingers around himself, his cock disappearing under his palm.
“Jimin-ah,” Yoongi grunts at the pleasure building below his spine. It’s wet and messy, the slick squelch with every thrust making Yoongi glad he doesn’t have another roommate.
Jimin arches off the bed, babbling again as his arms strain with the force he puts into holding onto the sheet. He forces his eyes open as they continue to flutter shut, holding Yoongi’s gaze as Yoongi layers another kiss to his knee.
“Good?” Yoongi breathes, circling his hips to grind deep. Jimin squirms, hips rocking and legs fighting back against Yoongi’s hold, looking just as desperate as he sounds. “Baby?”
Jimin huffs out, rocking back against Yoongi’s cock. The flush that had been in his cheek now travels down his neck and chest, leaving only his abdomen untouched. Yoongi pulls back, guiding Jimin’s hips up as he rests back on his calves before he jerks forward, fucking his hips harder.
“There, right there,” Jimin yelps, his hand working quickly over his cock as Yoongi strokes forward, every thrust pushing the head of his cock against his prostate. “Make me come, hyung.”
The pleasure in Yoongi’s body is being stretched taut, a second from breaking as Jimin fucks back to meet every one of his thrusts. His fingers gleam with the precome leaking steadily from his cock. Sweat drips down his forehead, joining the mess already collected to Jimin’s eyelashes.
“Let me see you come pretty,” Yoongi strains, covering Jimin’s hand with his own. “Pretty baby.”
Jimin arches off the bed, heels digging into the sheets and pleasure making his stomach ripple before he comes. His thighs tense, squeezing around Yoongi as come spurts between his fingers and lands messily across his stomach.
He comes quietly, hiccuping out a soft gasp before he does. Yoongi fills the quiet with a groan of his own, the clench of Jimin around his cock as he comes tugging him quickly towards his own release.
Their chests touch as Yoongi moves over Jimin, slipping a thigh over his hip. It’s gentle the way Jimin slides his fingers through Yoongi’s hair, tugging him into a kiss. It’s a slow fuck, Yoongi’s hips grinding forward in tiny jerks as he comes. It’s overwhelming, the feeling of his release with Jimin clenching around him, Jimin’s mouth on his and their hearts hovering close together.
“Hyung,” Jimin breathes, stretching the word. “Hyung, hyung.”
Yoongi grins into the kiss, shivering from sensitivity as he rocks into him. The tension around them remains, but it feels heavy like a blanket being thrown over them. It eases with every slide of their lips together, every whispered prayer of the other’s name, every rub of Jimin’s hands across his shoulders.
“Did you mean it?” Jimin says, voice so quiet it barely disrupts the silence that falls over them, Yoongi’s cock soft and still pressed deep inside of Jimin. He eases out slowly, hating the feel of being separated from Jimin.
“Mean what?” Yoongi asks as he focuses on the way his fingers strip the condom from his cock. He wonders if Jimin would be down to shower with him, or maybe bathe. His heart flips at the idea of washing Jimin’s hair, and rinsing the come off of his face.
“That you fell in love with me already.”
Jimin crosses his legs again, hands splayed by his ears where he rubs a strand of hair between two fingers. He looks effortlessly beautiful sprawled across Yoongi’s bed and for a moment he wishes he turned the lights on so he can see every inch of Jimin before him.
“I meant it, Jimin-ah. I have loved you for years.”
It feels good to let the words out though his chest squeezes and tries to grab them back. Jimin looks shy, the tears returning to his eyes as he holds his hands out to Yoongi.
Yoongi lifts him with care, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. He wants Jimin to love him back, and seeing the delight in his eyes knowing that Yoongi loves him makes him think maybe one day Jimin will.
Maybe one day, Yoongi thinks, not realizing it’s a day that has already passed.
“Bathe with me,” Yoongi requests, brushing Jimin’s sweaty fringe from his forehead. “Please?”
Jimin falters for a moment, eyes searching Yoongi’s face before he nods. “Of course.”
The warmth from the hot water surrounding them is cold compared to the heat radiating from Yoongi’s skin, from the feelings between them. His body aches and his muscles are sore, but the heat and the rub of Yoongi’s fingers makes soft sighs of pleasure escape Jimin’s lips.
The soap tickles his chin and hides their bodies from view, but he can feel Yoongi’s toes slipping over his ankles and where their slippery skin meets. He wanders his fingers over Yoongi’s thighs, smiling softly when Yoongi’s hand finds his under the water.
His fingertips are rippled and a shiver rushes up Jimin’s spine he plays with the tips of Jimin’s for a moment before touching over his palm.
Yoongi’s in love with him, he finally confessed.
There’s tears in Jimin’s eyes as he snuggles back against Yoongi’s chest and thinks about it. Yoongi hums, nudging his nose against his throat before kissing him softly. They should probably wash more, Jimin needs to clean the come from his face and probably wash his hair, but he’s too content like this to move.
“What did you mean when you said Hobi was right, earlier?”
Jimin huffs out in embarrassment. “He said you had a really big dick and I didn’t think he was lying, but yeah. Wow.”
Yoongi groans in complaint. “Why was Hoseok telling you about my dick?”
“Just bro bonding,” Jimin says with amusement in his tone. “We talk about your dick often.”
There’s a hard pinch to his thigh and Jimin jerks, pulling away Yoongi to splash him. He softens at the amusement in Yoongi’s eyes, at the warm smile on his face.
He does that sometimes, smile softly and stare like he’s lost in thought. Always at Jimin.
“Hoseok never lasts long into the conversation though. He doesn’t really like hearing how much I want a taste -”
Yoongi interrupts with a groan, his heat colored cheeks flushing darker as he crawls across the bathtub with his hands around the edges. His nose wrinkles before he growls, looking as threatening as a puppy before his lips are on Jimin’s.
There is a lot about Jimin loves about Yoongi, see: everything, but Jimin thinks his new favorite Yoongi thing is how his lips feel when sliding against his own.
“Please don’t talk about my dick with him,” Yoongi murmurs, lips pushed out so he can talk in pout.
Jimin’s addicted, planting another kiss to his lips and loving the way Yoongi’s eyes immediately fall closed, lips parting to accept it. “Why? I want to tell everyone what a nice cock you have.”
Yoongi’s eyes flutter shut when Jimin reaches between them, tickling his fingers over Yoongi’s soft cock before pulling away. He’s too tired for another round, though he’s already wondering if Yoongi will allow him to sleep in his bed so he can wake Yoongi with his mouth.
“It’s just a cock, Jimin-ah.”
It’s ridiculous and Jimin snorts, smacking Yoongi’s chest. “It’s just a cock, Jimin-ah,” he mocks.
Yoongi bares his teeth again as he falls back into the tub and grabs for the shampoo. “You’re a shit, Park Jimin.”
Jimin ducks his chin down, burying it into the soap as he leans forward and tickles Yoongi’s calves. “I’m your shit.”
Yoongi’s nose wrinkles. “I’m not really a fan of how that sounds. You’re too pretty to be referred as shit.”
The bubbles are effective in hiding the shy smile on his lips. “You literally called me shit, Yoongi.”
He tries to deny it, his expression serious like he really forgot he just said it but Jimin doesn’t argue back, not when Yoongi is moving so he can wash his hair at the same time.
Jimin stares up at the ceiling as the water pours over his scalp. The silence is back, only interrupted by the slosh of water and Yoongi’s occasional humming.
“Can I sleep in your bed tonight, hyung?”
“Of course,” Yoongi murmurs as he pops open the shampoo. He presses a kiss to Jimin’s jaw before the cool liquid dribbles over his scalp.
His fingers massage at his scalp slowly, dragging a rumble of pleased noises from Jimin. He can feel Yoongi’s smile even though he can’t see it and the tears return, just budding along his eyelids.
He wasn’t unhappy before with Yoongi, but now he’s so happy he can’t breathe.
“I want you to fall in love with me hyung,” Jimin breathes, closing his eyes to enjoy the way Yoongi rubs at his neck. He wants to hear it again, he’s been waiting so long to hear Yoongi admit to wanting him that he might just make Yoongi say again and again until his throat goes dry and he loses his voice.
Yoongi snorts, shaking his head. “I already have, Park Jimin.”
Jimin considers making Yoongi repeat it over and over again until the sound of his voice saying those words is permanently tattooed to his brain.
“I can’t believe you thought it was obvious,” Jimin murmurs in amazement. “I showed you a nude and you said it was nice . How is that obvious?”
An embarrassed noise leaves Yoongi’s lips before the water washes over his scalp, grabbing the suds with it. “I have no good excuse for that.”
Jimin snorts. “It wounded me, hyung.”
“Yah, Jimin,” Yoongi complains, using his whining voice that Jimin loves to tease out of him. “You overwhelm me. What am I supposed to say when the love of my life is like hey, here’s a dick pic?”
Jimin bites so hard at his bottom lip he’s afraid he might just chew it off. He wishes he could turn around, but Yoongi is taking his time rinsing the shampoo from his hair.
“Well, I definitely don’t suggest you say ‘nice’.”
A sharp pain bursts across his shoulder and he whips away to find Yoongi grinning. Water rushes in his eyes as he rubs his shoulder, feeling the indents of Yoongi’s teeth.
His stomach flips in his stomach, remembering the pulse of pain in his ass cheeks from where Yoongi had bitten him.
His shy hyung had really taken him by surprise and Jimin wants to know how much more of Yoongi there is to learn.
“I thought you wanted me but all my attempts at getting you to make a move failed miserably.”
The smile quickly slips from Yoongi’s face, pulling his brows towards each other as he frowns. Jimin hands him the conditioner before he whips around, suddenly shy.
“You were trying to get me to make a move?”
“Yah,” Jimin complains, pouting as he crosses his arms. “Took you long enough.”
Yoongi huffs out a quiet laugh. “I thought you were just trying to torture me, Jimin-ah. And oh tortured I was.”
There’s too much conditioner in Yoongi’s hands when he spreads it over Jimin’s hair, making clumps drip onto his neck. Normally he would complain, his conditioner is expensive, but Yoongi is amazing with his fingers and he moans instead as Yoongi massages his scalp.
“Did you really tell Jungkook you wanted to eat my ass?”
“No,” Yoongi blurts with a laugh, body shaking as he giggles. “Remind me to kill him and send his mother a fruit basket.”
Jimin leans back against Yoongi. He wonders if his cheeks will ever get a break from his smile. He hopes not. “I’m guessing Hoseok then.”
Another laugh. Jimin loves it and he can’t help but turn over his shoulder so he can see the way Yoongi’s eyes turn into crescents and his lips pull back to show off all his teeth. He hiccups when he giggles, little squeaky bursts of amusement sounding from his throat.
“You know I love you too, right?”
Jimin asks because he needs Yoongi to know. No more uncertainties, no more hiding it in his chest and hoping Yoongi will just figure it out.
It seemed impossible but Yoongi’s smile grows wider as he grabs Jimin’s hips and tugs him closer. “You do?”
Jimin nods, smiling shyly at the bubbles that are starting to shrink and fade. “Yeah, Yoongi hyung. Thought it was obvious.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”
“You love me,” Jimin giggles, shaking his head to tease.
Yoongi gives in, nodding as he smears his conditioner stained hands over Jimin’s cheeks. “I do love you Park Jimin.”
It’s like breathing for the first time, saying it back. He doesn’t remember what it’s like being born and he doesn’t remember what it’s like not being in love with Yoongi, but it feels like a new life has settled over him.
“I love you too, Min Yoongi.”
Jimin swallows, staring up at the elegant Impresso Espresso printed on the glass door. He can see Yoongi inside, laughing at something Hoseok talks animatedly about.
He isn’t sure why he’s so nervous. They’ve confessed, everyone already thinks they’re together. It’s ridiculous, he feels ridiculous.
He went all out putting on his makeup and choosing jewelry that makes him shine the most despite his outfit being a simple cream sweater that eats his hands and ripped jeans. Yoongi watched him and kissed him half way through getting ready, interrupting Jimin putting on his mascara, so Jimin knows he thinks he looks good but -
Jimin has no idea why but he’s nervous.
“Going in, Jimin?” says a voice from behind him and then there’s a hand on his back. Jin appears by his side with a look of mischief in his eyes and cheeks red from the wind. “Kinda cold out here.”
Jimin wrinkles his nose. It is cold. Not biting at his skin but enough he could start shivering soon. “I’ve decided I hate coffee actually.”
Jin snorts. “We been knew. No one who drinks the shit you drink actually likes coffee.”
And then he’s shoving Jimin inside, despite his protests. He’s aware of the eyes that turn on him from his death threats to Jin to let him go, but there’s only one pair his immediately go to.
There’s a soft smile on Yoongi’s lips as he waves over the counter, wiggling his fingers in a small wave like he isn’t concerned by Jimin threatening to shove his entire leg up Jin’s ass. Jimin’s heart bursts in his chest, the warmth from it making his nerves settle and the chill from outside burn away.
“Ah gross,” Jin grumbles. “Kookie told me you two fucked and I didn’t believe him. But I see it now.”
Jimin whips his head at Jin, flushing harder. He wouldn’t be surprised if Yoongi told his best friends, he wouldn’t care, but it hasn’t even been that long since they’ve parted ways.
“Yah, Jimin, he said you denied it but you can’t with me. You have that look in your eyes.”
Jin gives him a firm look before he flicks him, fingers smacking against the sore skin in Jimin’s neck.
Jimin jumps back, clutching his neck to glare at Jin. Jimin is aware his glare isn’t intimidating but he wishes his hyungs would at least pretend it is.
Jungkook is the only one intimidated by him, which makes Jungkook the only smart one in the whole group. Even if he spread the rumor that him and Yoongi fucked when they actually hadn’t.
Not at that time, at least.
“Jiminnie,” Hoseok cheers from behind the register. There’s a knowing look in his eyes as he wiggles his eyebrows and smiles in the way that causes the dimples to appear above his lips. “Any idea why hyung is in such a good mood today? I swear I heard him singing a love song while traying Joon’s cookies. Didn’t even realize they were completely burnt.”
Jimin glances at Yoongi down the bar where his fingers work deftly to untie his apron. “How should I know?”
Hoseok holds up his iced coffee, turning it so Jimin can see the amount of hearts scribbled around his name. “I reminded him you stopped adding chocolate sauce and he added the whole bottle, saying you deserve only the best. Looked like an actual murderer this time, Jiminnie. I know I joke about it but I was truly scared.”
Jimin bites at his grin, snatching the cup from Hoseok and handing him his card in return. Hoseok waves it off with a grin.
“On the house. I have a feeling a celebration is in order.”
Jimin turns on his heel, practically flying to his normal table in the corner of the cafe.
It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to make his way to him, bringing back the nerves Jimin had felt earlier. They’re annoying. They should be gone now that they’ve finally opened up to each other, not be worse than they ever have been.
When Yoongi steps in front of him, tongue running over his bottom lip, Jimin understands why they’re there.
Yoongi’s smile grows as he steps closer and Jimin swallows. Why is he so nervous about Yoongi kissing him? Or maybe he’s nervous Yoongi won’t . They hadn’t really talked about what they are now or what any of this means going forward.
But despite spending the better half of the morning kissing Yoongi; waking him up with kisses, kissing in the bathroom, the kitchen, and nearly being late for class after shoving him into the wall of their hallway to kiss him before they parted, Jimin already misses the feel of Yoongi’s mouth on his own.
“Are you going to kiss me hello, hyung?”
Yoongi cocks his head to the side and for a second Jimin doesn’t think he’s going to move. But then he’s in his space, a gentle hand folding over his cheek before Yoongi’s lips are on his.
Jimin sighs into it, savoring the strong taste of coffee on Yoongi’s tongue. It’s easy to get lost in the feel, forgetting they’re in public until a loud shout makes Yoongi jump away from him in alarm.
“Yes!” Hoseok yells, his voice deep as he raises his fists into the air. “Fucking yes!”
He cocks his head in amazement, eyes wide and Jimin flushes, wanting to hide himself behind Yoongi.
“Namjoon!” Hoseok calls, heading towards the back with his fists still in the air. “What do you get when you put two oranges together? Fucking orange juice.”
Yoongi’s jaw slackens as he stares after his best friend. “What the hell does that mean?” he mutters to himself before turning back to Jimin. There’s a shy look on his face as he caresses Jimin’s cheek.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, eyelashes fluttering. Everyone is looking at them now but Jimin doesn’t care, even if Jin’s are promising to tease the hell out of him later. “So um, I made sure to put a lot of chocolate sauce.”
Jimin doesn’t want Yoongi to move away but at least he doesn’t go far, even moving the other chair across the floor to be closer. “I stopped ordering the chocolate sauce.”
Yoongi wrinkles his nose at this. “Why? Without the chocolate sauce it’s just orange .”
He giggles at the disgust on Yoongi’s face. “You said I was losing my touch, too much chocolate sauce.”
Yoongi stares at him for a long time, his eyes intense on him to the point Jimin has to look away and try not to squirm in his seat.
“Here,” Yoongi says, taking off the lid of Jimin’s drink. He tugs on the straw, scooping a huge amount of chocolate onto it before hovering it in front of Jimin’s face. “I’ll force feed you it.”
Jimin grins as he opens his lips, eyes heavy to tease as the chocolate touches his tongue.
“You’re perfect, you know,” Yoongi murmurs, a flush touching his skin as he scoops more chocolate sauce into his mouth.
“No one’s perfect,” Jimin reminds him as he flicks his tongue out to catch the dribble of sauce on his lip.
Yoongi flushes further as he watches the movement. “Trust me, I know this. Google told me.”
Jimin rolls his eyes, not wanting to argue. He scooches closer as Yoongi feeds him so he can slide his hand over Yoongi’s jean clad thigh.
“Not too much hyung. I wanna lick it off you later and it really isn’t good to have too much sugar in a day.”
He relishes in the way Yoongi’s eyes blow wide and his lips part in surprise before he bobs his head, humming like he’s pleased with this idea.
“Okay, yeah. Yeah, nice.”
Jimin shoves into Yoongi until he nears falling off of the stool. “We talked about nice .”
Yoongi grabs his hands to keep himself from falling, pulling on Jimin until their lips crash together. It only lasts a second, just long enough for Jimin to stop trying to overthrow Yoongi’s hold and when Yoongi pulls back, there’s a smile of triumph on his lips.
“That sounds superb, babe.”
With a glare, Jimin pinches Yoongi’s thigh hard. “You are the worst .”
It’s sad thinking about the amount of time Jimin has missed kissing Yoongi. Years of it. Years of missed time, where he could have had the other man’s body pressing into him, his soft fingers touching over his skin while he works his tongue into his mouth. It’s a true tragedy, but Jimin is determined to make up for lost time.
He doesn’t know why he had been nervous earlier in the cafe. Those feelings are long gone, replaced only by want for Yoongi. It doesn’t help that Yoongi is just as wanting, only pretending to be put off for a second before he’s giving in and wrapping himself around Jimin.
It takes his breath away and makes him dizzy but god, Jimin’s high off the taste of Yoongi.
“If you don’t stop, I’ll suck you off right here in the hallway.”
Yoongi grins but doesn’t let go. He keeps Jimin pinned against the wall, hands roaming over his torso and mouth hot on his. Jimin really doesn’t mind, he’s the one that had pulled Yoongi by the shirt and into his space, but he also doesn’t need Jungkook stepping out of his apartment and losing his innocence.
Shy Yoongi, skin flushed to the roots whenever Jimin implies something dirty, is long gone when the dirt actually happens and it’s overwhelming.
So much time of Jimin not knowing sinful Yoongi.
“Don’t say that or we’ll have to blow off movie night.”
Another thing Jimin doesn’t really mind, though their friends will never let them live it down if they miss movie night. It’s once a month and was created in case their schedules became too busy and they didn’t see each other, but Jimin sees all of them each day. It really would be okay to miss it just once, but movie night is his favorite part of every month.
It was always his favorite when he’d sneak his toes under their shared blanket to curl under Yoongi’s thigh, or when Yoongi would side eye him when he poked and prodded for a cuddle. Yoongi always gave in, wrapping an arm around Jimin’s shoulders or shifting so Jimin could lay his head in his lap.
“I’ll stroke you off under the blanket,” Jimin compromises, voice a whisper as he slides his hands to Yoongi’s hips.
Yoongi groans low, pushing forward to kiss him again but is jostled when the door flies open and revealing Jungkook, already clad in his striped pajamas.
“Oh, holy fuck,” Jungkook gasps, eyes wide before he closes the door just to open it again. “Nevermind, holy shit. Finally.”
If Yoongi weren’t still caging him against the wall, Jimin would kick the amused look right from Jungkook’s face.
“I get it now. Orange juice.”
Yoongi’s face crumples, a complaint written in his expression before his lips push into a pout. “How does that make any sense?”
Jimin giggles although he doesn’t understand. He just likes when Yoongi looks flustered and pouty.
“Stop gawking,” Jimin huffs with a laugh, rolling his eyes as he playfully pushes Jungkook out of the doorway. “Thanks by the way. Without you, hyung would never had the guts to tell me he wanted to eat my ass and I’m glad that’s an experience I didn’t miss out on.”
Jungkook grins widely though it falters when he glances at Yoongi. He is gone in a flash, running back into the apartment despite Yoongi not making a move to chase after him.
“Jimin-ah, don’t encourage him,” Yoongi complains fondly as he slips a hand to Jimin’s lower back to guide him in.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to Yoongi’s small touches and he’s glad. He’s starting to become a little addicted to the warmth of his touch and the it leaves his skin prickling even when he pulls away.
There’s commotion when Yoongi and Jimin enter the living room and Jimin refuses to flush. He fails, turning shy and wanting to hide against Yoongi’s chest when they start teasing. Jin claps loudly, his face a picture of pure delight. Taehyung jumps in his seat, eyebrows wiggling suggestively and Hoseok whistles, the sound loud and piercing.
Instead of turning shy, Jimin shoves Jin so he topples to the other side of the couch, making just enough room for Yoongi and him to squeeze in. He sends a threatening death glare to the rest of friends when he leans into Yoongi’s chest, squirming to make himself comfortable and daring for them to comment.
It goes ignored, the teasing and ‘thank god finally’ worsening but Jimin can only smile. Jimin loves them, even if he wants to throttle them most of the time
“So the important question is ,” Namjoon interrupts, a big grin on his lips as he settles the bowl of snacks in front of them, next to the tray of fruit.
“Does this mean no more muscle butt guy?” Jungkook asks where he’s hidden himself behind Taehyung, just as Namjoon says, “does this mean you’re boyfriends?”
“Muscle butt?” Jimin asks in confusion as Yoongi chokes on the word boyfriend .
Jungkook holds Jimin’s gaze, looking just as confused by Jimin’s confusion. He tries to focus on him instead of the way Yoongi fidgets behind him and the butterflies erupting in his stomach over one word.
“Yah,” Jungkook says, “the one in the vid with you. Dude’s got an ass of pure muscle.”
Jimin sinks into Yoongi as Yoongi curls an arm around his waist. There’s chatter around them but he feels as if all eyes are on him suddenly.
“Jungkookie,” Jin says, scolding in his tone. “You’re not supposed to watch those.”
“I’m twenty years old!” Jungkook complains, a defensive look on his face. “It’s a completely normal age to be watching porn.”
Jin looks bewildered, almost a little disappointed as he shakes his head and rubs at his temples. “No. I mean - you know what, nevermind. I need a drink.”
Namjoon huffs out a laugh as he watches Jin disappear into the kitchen. Jimin feels like his face is on fire as he realizes that both Jungkook and Jin know that he’s Baby J.
And by the fact that Namjoon doesn’t look surprised or confused by the conversation, it’s a good indication that he know too.
“It’s like bro code, dude. You can’t watch hyung’s boyfriend like that.”
An argument fills the room, Jungkook passionately defending himself and slowly hiding further behind Taehyung, who munches on his snacks with a grin and huffs of laughter in between each bite.
With Yoongi’s fingers rubbing over his belly and his lips brushing at his neck, Jimin relaxes. No one seems to care or judge, or be bothered by it at all.
Not that he cares if most people think what he does is wrong, but these are his friends.
“I didn’t know,” Jungkook complains, eyes wide and apologetic as they flash to Yoongi.
“How didn’t you know?” Taehyung laughs, turning around to face Jungkook. “His username is literally the same as his old kakao.”
“Hey, he’s the one that let it spill,” Jungkook says, looking at Jimin as he points to Taehyung. Taehyung throws an arm out to punish him, but Jungkook is strong and holds Taehyung’s arm in place with ease. “When I was running for my life the other day, he asked me why Yoongi was trying to murder me and if it’s because he found out I watch Baby J.”
“I will murder you for that,” Yoongi deadpans, moving his hand from Jimin’s belly to tangle with his fingers.
“I mean, I thought maybe . Since Taehyung and Jimin have the best asses on campus but Taehyung doesn’t whine like that when he’s getting -”
The group erupts in a commotion of complain and Jimin bites hard on his bottom lip, his chest growing with a fondness that only the six of them make him feel.
“Careful Kookie, there’s a rumor going around that Yoongi’s murdered a guy before.”
“Hyung you started that rumor.”
“Koo, how do you know how Taehyung sounds during sex?”
“You think I have the best ass on campus?”
Yoongi jostles, faking as if he’s going to jump up and fly across the room. It’s effective as Jungkook quickly flies where he’s crouched and topples over the back of the couch. Jimin huffs out a laugh, stomach tightening with how hard he giggles.
The sound of Yoongi’s quiet laugh in his ear has the urge to kiss him riling up inside of Jimin again. It’s intertwined with the joy he feels being around his friends and he blossoms, the giddiness spreading through his limbs.
“Am I wrong?” Jungkook complains from behind the couch before he tentatively peeks his head over it.
The silence that follows is tense, eyes glancing towards Yoongi and Jimin covers his lips, muffling the laugh in his chest.
“You’re not wrong,” Yoongi hums, squeezing Jimin’s fingers.
Taehyung is gleaming, his thick eyebrows raised high and mouth stretched into a wide smile as he leans back against the couch to look at Jungkook.
“Let’s go back to the part where you said I had the best ass.”
It hadn’t seemed possible for Jungkook to turn any more red, but he does, his face inflamed like he had spent the day outside without his sunblock again. “Yeah? You have a really nice ass. And so what of it?”
Jimin sighs at the defensive tone while Yoongi laughs again, this time burying the hiccuped giggles into the crook of his neck.
“Like hey,” Taehyung says, wiggling his finger guns at Jungkook, “‘nice ass’ or like ‘h-hey, nice ass.’”
It becomes harder to keep his giggle in, Jimin’s body shaking with his attempts as Jungkook’s expression goes blank and he stares hard at Taehyung.
“I - I don’t know the difference,” Jungkook admits, his tone full of concern that he can’t tell the two examples apart.
“Which screams he wants to bury his face into your ass and suffocate because that’s the best way to go?” Hoseok chimes in, face grim. “Which are his exact words by the way.”
“Definitely finger guns,” Jimin and Jin say in unison, the laughter slipping from their lips and filling the room.
Jungkook turns on Hoseok like he might strike, but Taehyung is grabbing for his hand, making Jungkook fall completely still.
The breath gets stuck in Jimin’s lungs once again as he sees that look, the look Taehyung always gets in his eyes when he’s about to strike. Yoongi breathes his name but Jimin hushes him, not wanting to miss the moment.
“Is that true?”
Jungkook glances to all of them, the sudden silence loud in the room. “Um yeah, hyung. You could sit on my face and break my neck and I would say thank you.”
“What the fuck,” Yoongi breathes before he presses his forehead to Jimin’s shoulder and shakes his head, little puffs of laughter warming down Jimin’s skin.
Taehyung’s eyes fill with delight as he bites his bottom lip and pushes up on his knees, turning so he’s face to face with Jungkook over the back of the couch. Someone groans out a complaint when Taehyung whispers and Jungkook’s eyes widen with alarm.
“They’re gonna do it,” Yoongi huffs out, his tone superior as he drags Jimin back with him as he leans into the arm of the couch. “Look at Jungkook’s face.”
Taehyung stands with a mischief grin on his lips before he puts two fingers above his eyebrow and salutes them. “Bye hoes. I just remembered I have a biology paper I have to finish for tomorrow morning.”
Jimin snorts, shaking his head but he doesn’t call Taehyung out on his lie.
“Oh yeah,” Jungkook says suddenly, jumping onto his feet. “I uh, yeah I promised I’d help Tae Tae with that. Since you know, I’m so good at um, chemistry.”
Jungkook trips over his feet running after Taehyung, who scurries towards the front door and misses Yoongi’s weak, ‘he said biology’ he calls after Jungkook.
“Thank god those idiots got it together,” Jimin sighs, pushing his feet into Jin so he can get more comfortable. Jin stares at him long and hard before snorting loudly.
“Yeah, total idiots,” Jin repeats with a roll of his eyes. “I’m surrounded by them.”
Jimin glances down into his lap where Yoongi has held his hand out facing him, allowing him to trace the lines covering his palm and tickle the tips of his fingers. He’s aware of the music starting and his friends talking, but it’s muffled by the feeling of Yoongi’s heart beating into his back.
He pouts when Yoongi pulls his hands away and jostles him like he’s going to move away, but he stops when Jimin turns to curl into his side.
“H-hi,” Yoongi huffs. Under the flickering of the television, Jimin can’t tell that his cheeks are red but he knows by the way Yoongi swallows and glances away.
He knows by the way Yoongi quickly shuts off his phone when Jimin glances in his lap, but Jimin doesn’t miss the text message page filled with a hundred orange emojis.
“Hobi-ah,” Yoongi explains with a nervous giggle and a clearing of his throat. “He uh, wants some fruit.”
Jimin frowns, glancing at where Hoseok pays apt to the television and distractedly shoves handfuls is popcorn into his mouth.
Yoongi gives him a firm nod before he stands and grabs for the plate full of fruit. He shuffled across the carpet, dragging a complaint from Jin when he steps in front of the television. The tap to Hoseok’s shoulder has Hoseok jolting in surprise. He makes a face at the plate of fruit when Yoongi nudges it towards him but a moment later his face is lighting up.
“You’re so stupid,” Hoseok huffs out as he takes the plate, shaking his head in disbelief as Yoongi grabs a handful of orange slices.
Jimin doesn’t understand the bright shade of red on Yoongi’s face when he returns, noticeable even in the dim lighting. He’s tense, even when Jimin shifts to rest his head on his lap and shove his feet into Jin’s lap.
He tries to relax Yoongi, cupping his knee and rubbing the bones on the side as he tries to focus back on the movie. But Yoongi shifts as he does something on his phone, wiggling underneath him and his fingers shift into Jimin’s hair when he pinches Yoongi’s thigh.
Rolling to his back, Jimin stares up at Yoongi. His hand shifts from his hair to his cheek, tickling over his cheekbone. He makes a frustrated noise before glaring down at Jimin.
“Do you have your phone?”
Jimin wrinkles his nose, nodding as he shifts to get it out of his pocket. “Why?”
An answer isn’t needed when he spots Yoongi’s name on the screen and his frown twitches into an amused grin.
The fidgeting beneath him grows as Jimin opens the message with interest. He glances at Yoongi as he spots the long message, but he’s looking determinedly ahead.
“‘Media naranja’ is a metaphor referring to marriage and/or relationships. If YOU are my ‘media naranja,’ or ‘half an orange’ and I am the other half of the orange, together we are complete. Common explanation: since no two oranges are identical, each half-orange only has one possible match. In this view, media naranja isn’t just one’s mate, but the perfect match, something like ‘soul mate.’”
The grin on Jimin’s face hurts. He remembers Yoongi telling him about this before, after hearing it in some film in one of their shared classes. Jimin hadn’t understood why Yoongi was so excited about it. It had been one of the few times Jimin was worried his feelings were for someone else.
It was for him. He hadn’t believed Yoongi truly when he said he’s been in love with him for a long time but this -
“Yoongi,” Jimin whines under his breath, closing out his phone to fist his fingers into Yoongi’s shirt and pull him down. Yoongi gasps softly before Jimin catches the sound with his lips, anchoring himself upwards to kiss Yoongi properly.
“Oh come on,” Jin complains, shoving Jimin’s feet off his lap but Jimin is quick, anchoring his foot to the ground to keep him from tumbling.
He doesn’t want to stop kissing, even if Yoongi mutters in embarrassment between the press of their lips. The giddiness in him builds and builds, excitement filling him at the idea of Yoongi and him finally being able to spread their true story.
“I decided on my favorite,” Jimin murmurs, voice quiet so he doesn’t interrupt the move as he presses Yoongi’s cheeks under his palm. “Local Cute Barista falls in love with the famous camboy who orders shitty orange drinks and he pretends to hate them but whenever the campus camboy comes to the cafe there’s his drink already waiting for him with a ton of extra chocolate sauce.”
Yoongi’s face softens as he smiles, eyes focused on Jimin’s mouth as he speaks.
“And everyone knows they’re in love but him.”
The smile falters and Yoongi looks like he might complain as his eyes wide but Jimin presses a finger to his lips to quiet him.
“It’s okay hyung. Rumor also has it my powerful father will kill you if it gets out that you’ve defiled his son.”
Yoongi manages to complain this time, growling slightly as Jimin is suddenly jostled. He uses the strength Jimin loves, lifting Jimin as he stands. Even though he staggers, Jimin clings on and trembles with a laugh.
“I’m so proud of you! All grown up,” they hear Hoseok yell after them as Yoongi stumbles with carrying Jimin to the hallway of bedrooms.
Jimin’s giggle is muffled with Yoongi’s lips, his heart filling with love and warmth and his mouth filling with the taste of oranges.