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Come On (Na Na Na)

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“But all three of us,” Jungkook frowns, turning his cup around in his hands. “That’s a lot to happen at once. What if he gets overwhelmed?”

Taehyung licks his lips and leans in a little bit, “I mean, isn’t that half the concept? Seeing hyung get overwhelmed? That’s hot, isn’t it?”

Jimin smiles a little, an evil light in his eyes, “Yeah, Tae, that’s hot. I mean, he already gets turned on easy, just imagine how desperate he’s going to be with three of us on him at once-”

“But what if he cries?” Jungkook says, “He gets emotional so easily, he could totally end up crying, and I’m programmed to punch people in the face when they make Namjoon-hyung cry. I don’t want to have to punch myself in the face.”

“Well, if it’s consensual,” Taehyung says, taking a sip of his own tea. They’re sitting around the lounge, one on each side of the coffee table like they’re having a meeting. They have tea, they have a neat little plate of iced biscuits, and they have a foursome to think about, “if he wants to cry, that’s, uh…”

“That’s also hot,” Jimin fills in, propping his chin on his hand. “Think about it. Namjoon-hyung, all splayed out and naked and hot, begging for something, crying because he wants it so bad…”

They all stop for a second and consider the image.

Namjoon, on his knees, sitting back on his heels with his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright, biting at his lip as he lifts and settles back, squirming in place, deep voice cracking as he cranes up towards them. His dark eyes welling, sniffing slightly, hands clutching at his knees as he promises he’ll be good, he’ll be good, but he wants-

“Crying for what?” Jungkook almost whispers, not wanting to break the moment.

“To get fucked,” Taehyung says, “you know he likes being pushed around in bed.”

They all stop for a second and consider the image.

Namjoon, Jungkook’s strong arms holding him down as Taehyung leans down to kiss him, then pushes him away, slaps him lightly, and Namjoon lets out a loud moan, hips kicking up against where Jimin’s lying over his thighs. Taehyung sits up and pulls his hand back again, and Namjoon whimpers, pressing up against them.

“He’s mentioned that he’s… interested… in trying bondage,” Jimin says, “I mean, he said he was joking, but he looked at those fuzzy handcuffs Yoongi-hyung gave him way too intently to be joking.”

“Namjoon-hyung in handcuffs…” Jungkook says, and it sounds almost fervent, “he’d look so good in handcuffs.”

“In handcuffs and crying,” Taehyung repeats dreamily, “actually sounds really great.”

“I’m just… what if we leave bruises?” Jungkook says.

They all stop for a second and consider the image.

Namjoon’s wrists, wrapped in blue and purple, his neck painted in grey and purple, finger prints on his hips and marks on his ass. Bruises peeking over the collar of his jumpers, under the hem of his shirt, everyone knowing exactly what’s been done to him.

“...I mean, if it’s consensual?” Taehyung says weakly.

“If he asks us to give him bruises,” Jimin says, “that’s totally fine, I think.”

“Asks us…” Jungkook swallows, “or… begs us?”

“So, when is hyung getting home?” Taehyung asks, trying to sound casual as he shifts in his seat.

"Soon. I think we should uh. Get out the handcuffs." Jimin says.

"Just so we're ready," Jungkook nods, and jumps up from his seat.