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the night is on your lips

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There’s nothing particularly outstanding about the club from outside.

About two levels high with a sign boasting its name in neon-lit purple, Singularity looks like just about any other club Jimin has been to. No windows from the front, a decent line of people waiting outside, two bouncers standing dutifully by the entrance.

Except one of the bouncers has two pairs of arms, one crossed against his chest, the other checking over the people waiting to get inside. The other, equally bulky as the first but only possessing the usual amount of limbs, has a swirling pair of deep green horns protruding from his temples.

Jimin feels himself practically vibrate in excitement, taking an eager step forward in line as more people get let in. Beside him, Hoseok is just as restless, but for seemingly different reasons.

“Are we sure about this?” Hoseok asks, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his coat. His reservations about accompanying Jimin to Singularity aside, he sure dressed up for the evening. Beneath the bulk of his coat, he’s donned one of his nicer ripped jeans and a red plaid top with the sleeves cut off, a pair of blue-tinted sunglasses completing the look. It’s nothing Jimin could ever imagine wearing himself, but it’s true to Hoseok’s sense of fashion and fits him in a very flattering way.

Jimin had waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his friend before leaving their apartment.

Now, he just rolls his eyes and grabs onto Hoseok’s arm, giving his bicep a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll be fine, hyung. We’re open-minded, yeah?”

“I mean,” Hoseok begins, frowning mildly, “it’s not that I think anything bad about them. It’s just… new crowd, short notice. I haven’t had the chance to fully prepare myself mentally.”

Jimin thinks he can understand that. Singularity isn’t an exclusive club (though there are supernatural-only clubs in select places across Seoul, which is understandable considering there are human-only clubs pretty much everywhere) but its usual customers consist mostly of supernaturals. It’s definitely new territory for them both, since most of their interactions with supernaturals have been limited within campus, but Jimin is nothing if not adventurous.

“Adventurous is one way of putting it,” Hoseok had snorted when Jimin opened up about wanting to go to Singularity. “Just say you want some monster dick and go.”

“I don’t think they’d appreciate being called monsters,” Jimin had replied with a small frown, before pulling up a search tab to try and figure out whether ‘monster’ is considered offensive.

(It’s not, according to the numerous articles Jimin read well into the late hours of the night, but he’s still going to refrain from using the word just in case.)

The memory makes him snort now, especially when he remembers how he didn’t even try to deny Hoseok’s lighthearted accusation. There wouldn’t have been any point to it. His roommate knows him all too well, and Jimin didn’t even try to hide his intentions when he put on his outfit for tonight—dark skinny jeans and a plain white shirt that’s a size too big, which seems pretty simple, except the collar of his shirt is wide enough to expose his collarbones and shoulder, and his jeans have a huge rip on the right thigh.

“You didn’t have to come with me,” Jimin tells Hoseok, a bit belatedly, as they move further down the line.

Now it’s Hoseok’s turn to snort. “Yeah, right.”

Jimin nudges their hips together playfully. “No, really. I could have just gone here on my own.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes, lips quirking into a smile, but otherwise doesn’t respond. Jimin thinks, despite all of his best friend’s nervousness about this particular trip, he’s also looking to get laid. Or maybe find a supernatural boyfriend, Hoseok’s all about romance and shit.

Finally, just as Jimin is beginning to wonder whether he’ll end up freezing his ass off before he can even step foot into Singularity, the two girls standing in front of them—one human and the other sporting an extra set of solid black eyes, from what Jimin has managed to glean during the brief moment she turned around to check the line—get let inside. The bouncers look intimidating up close, but it does nothing to dampen Jimin’s spirits. In fact, he smiles sweetly up at them and asks, “Busy night, or is this the usual?”

The one with the horns seems surprised at being verbally addressed. He shares a look with the other bouncer, before offering what Jimin thinks is his attempt at a friendly smile. “Just the usual. Thursdays ‘till Saturdays are busier.”

The one with four arms seems more used to smiling politely at people. “First time?”

“Yes!” Jimin replies brightly, tugging Hoseok closer to his side. “My friend and I are very excited!”

Four-arms seems amused, but not malicious. “Well, have fun. We get a lot of first-timers and it can be pretty overwhelming inside, but there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I’m sure you boys work hard to keep all trouble at bay,” Jimin responds sweetly. Hoseok just makes a vague noise that Jimin interprets as one of agreement.

When they’re finally let inside, Jimin takes a quick moment to just stand there and try to take everything in. The club looks even bigger inside, large booths lined up along the walls, a few tables set around the dancefloor. There are more stools along the bar, the bar itself lit up in electric blue with three workers tending behind it. The tiles on the floor seem to be glowing neon, and there are stairs leading up to half a second floor that directly overlooks the dancefloor. There appears to be more tables set there for patrons who are only looking for a drink and a place of relative quiet, and perhaps something far more intimate, considering how it’s a more dimly-lit area.

But what really gives Jimin pause is the fact that there are so many supernaturals roaming about in all their glory, mingling with both monsters and humans alike. On campus, most supernatural students tend to cover up the features that set them apart from humans as best as they can, but here, no one gives a shit at all. There’s a girl with spider-like legs sprouting from her back dancing with a shy-looking human boy. There’s a man who has a folded pair of bat wings enjoying a drink by the bar. There’s a girl whose lower body is that of a snake that slithers past them, shooting a wink at Hoseok, who’s gaping.

The bouncer wasn’t lying. It is overwhelming, but not at all in a bad way.

Jimin tugs excitedly at Hoseok’s jacket sleeve and pulls him into the fray.

They decide to sit by the bar instead of finding a booth or a table. The both of them agree that some drinks are in order before they attempt talking to anyone or, even more, letting loose on the dancefloor. The bartender that approaches them looks human enough with his soft brown hair and piercing gray eyes, except Jimin doesn’t think anyone can possibly look that humanly good.

His suspicions of this person being a supernatural are confirmed when the bartender, whose name tag reads ‘Taehyung’ once close enough, greets them. His mouth opens up to his ears, displaying a row of razor-sharp teeth. When he speaks, his tongue lolls out slightly, unnaturally long and pointed at the tip.

Jimin glances at Hoseok to gauge his reaction, but is surprised to find his roommate staring at the bartender with something like wide-eyed wonder.

“So,” Taehyung chirps, voice surprisingly deep, “what can I get you two tonight?”

“Just a beer for me, to start off,” Jimin says, “though if you have any recommendations, I’d love to try them out!”

Taehyung nods, already bending down to pick up a glass. “First timers?”

“Yes,” Jimin says, tapping his fingers against the bartop rhythmically. The music playing through the club is nice. It’s loud enough that everything feels like it’s gently pulsing, akin to the veins of live being, but not to the point where it hurts Jimin’s ears. The songs are slow and heavy, sultry, something that’s more of a roll-and-grind rather than a thrust-and-bounce.

Taehyung grins, and though it’s a bit unsettling considering how it literally reaches up to his ears, Jimin finds himself further relaxing at the sight. He hands Jimin his beer, before turning to Hoseok. “What about you?”

Hoseok is still staring. He doesn’t seem to have heard the question, and Jimin has to elbow him in order to pay attention again. He holds back a laugh at the way his friend physically startles, grabbing onto the bartop to prevent himself from falling onto the floor. “Wha—”

“What are you getting?” Jimin asks, sure he’s failing to hide his amusement, before glancing at Taehyung who seems just as amused, if not a bit charmed.

“Oh,” Hoseok says, voice turning high-pitched. “Um, uh, whatever’s fine. But maybe something sweet? I can’t handle strong stuff, though.”

Taehyung’s gaze lingers on Hoseok a bit more, before he’s smiling again. “I know just the thing.”

He moves away for a bit, looking at the bottles on the shelf behind the bar, and Jimin waggles his eyebrows at his roommate. “That was fast.”

“Shut it,” Hoseok says, looking embarrassed. “He’s kinda, really gorgeous, okay? It was a natural reaction.”

Jimin would tease his friend more, except Taehyung returns at that exact moment with a bottle of something clear. Jimin takes a swig of his beer and angles his body away from the bar, leaving Hoseok to himself and his flustered attempts at responding to Taehyung’s casual conversation.

Jimin scans the crowd, finding a good number of people dancing, but the booths and tables are mostly filled as well. The familiar sights of usual club activities somehow balance out the unfamiliarity of the environment itself, causing Jimin to further relax and lounge against the bar. He takes another liberal gulp of his drink, no longer affected by the strong bitterness that floods his tongue, and sees whether anyone will catch his eye.

There are certainly a few that look his way. Jimin makes eye contact with a woman whose skin seems to glint beneath the sparse lights, and when she waves at him, Jimin sees that her fingers taper off into sharp claws. He waves back, even throwing in a wink. The woman laughs prettily before turning back to her dance partner.

Jimin likes this. He likes this atmosphere.

He’s almost done with his beer when he catches sight of three people standing by the second floor railing. Two of them seem human, one tall, the other not as much. The tall one has his arm wrapped around the only clearly-supernatural among them, a boy dressed simply in a dark hoodie that seems like it’s seen better days. The only indication that he’s not human is the fact that there’s a long tail extending from beneath the back of his hoodie, wrapped around the tall man’s thigh. Their backs are mostly turned to Jimin with the way they’re standing, except for the short (in comparison) human who’s leaning onto the railing.

They make eye contact.

Jimin smiles, sending him a wave. The guy looks startled, head sinking into his shoulders like he’s shy, mouth curving up into the smallest of smiles.

He’s cute.

Really cute.

“How about you, pretty? Want another drink?”

Jimins startles, breaking eye contact with the guy as he turns to face the bar once more. Taehyung is pouring Hoseok a second drink, it seems, and is looking at Jimin expectantly.

“Uh,” Jimin says, looking down at what remains of his beer. He quickly downs it and sets the glass onto the counter, before nodding at Taehyung. “Surprise me.”

Taehyung’s grin is sharp and mildly unsettling, but it’s also oddly attractive on him. Hoseok looks like he’s about to start shooting literal hearts out of his eyes.

“I like your outfit, by the way,” Taehyung tells Hoseok as he slides their new drinks across the bartop. It’s blue and fun-looking, the bottom of the tall glass filled with ice cubes. “Did you cut the sleeves off yourself?”

Hoseok’s face is red. Jimin can confidently say it’s not from the alcohol. “Uh, yeah. I-I did.”

Probably disregarding all sense of professionalism, Taehyung leans onto the bartop in a way that is 100% flirty. He flutters his lashes at Hoseok. “That’s so cool! I sometimes customize my own clothes, too.”

Jimin tries not to laugh out loud as he sips his drink through the swirly straw it comes with, lest he disturb the flirty bubble his roommate and the bartender are in. Hoseok initially came here to offer Jimin some moral support to (he quotes Hoseok) get a good monster dicking, so it’s utterly hilarious to see Hoseok be the one to have a monster flirting with him.

“Aren’t you, uh,” Hoseok begins, after taking a hasty sip of his drink to stop himself from choking over whatever it is Taehyung just whispered into his ear, “needed or something?” He eyes the rest of the bartenders, obviously wondering whether this is okay, but no one seems to mind Taehyung fooling around on the job.

Taehyung waves a hand, confirming this. “Oh, it’s fine. They don’t mind.”

Hoseok still looks a little doubtful. “I won’t get you into trouble?”

“Hoseokie-hyung,” Taehyung says, voice sweet, “I own this place.”

Jimin almost chokes on his own drink at this, looking at Taehyung with wide eyes. Hoseok looks like he’s about to fall off his stool. “Y-You own…?”

“Yes,” Taehyung confirms, looking far too pleased at their reactions, “Singularity is mine.”

Jimin gapes at Taehyung. Hoseok seems speechless for a moment, then he blurts, “That’s hot.”

Taehyung blinks, looking like he wasn’t expecting that response. Then he smiles, cheeks tinged a light pink. “Wanna dance with me?”

Hoseok looks at Jimin immediately, silently asking if that’s okay. Jimin, good friend that he is, just waves a hand urging Hoseok to go. Taehyung steps around the bar, revealing that he’s been wearing what seems to be silk pajama pants all along, and loops an arm through Hoseok’s.

“Hope it’s okay that I steal your friend for a while!”

Jimin grins and shoots a thumbs-up. Then Hoseok is being dragged away, drink left mostly unfinished on the bartop. Jimin slides it towards himself, sipping away happily at his own drink until there’s nothing left but ice. Then he starts on Hoseok’s.

He glances at his friend, happy to see that he seems more confident now that he’s dancing. It’s Taehyung who seems awestruck this time, mouth hanging open slightly as Hoseok pulls him close with a hand around the wrist, hips swaying. Jimin snorts into his (Hoseok’s) drink and looks away, offering his friend some semblance of privacy. His gaze lands on the stairs leading up, and he pauses, before turning around to call the attention of one of the other bartenders.

Three minutes later, Jimin is stepping onto the second floor with two drinks in hand, standing on his tiptoes in search of the man from earlier. There aren’t as many people here, so it’s easy to spot him sitting at a booth with the two others from before. There’s another man beside him, however, broad-shouldered and beautiful even in the dark, and Jimin feels himself hesitate. His grip tightens around the glass for a moment, wondering how to proceed.

Fortunately, luck seems to be on his side because the man gets up from the booth and walks back to the railing, but this time closer to the very far end. Jimin watches him pull out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and light one up, looking far too attractive for someone in the process of destroying his lungs. Then Jimin musters up the courage to approach.

“Hey,” he says once he’s close enough, and the man startles, practically spinning around to face him. He’s even cuter up close, dark hair mussed in a way that’s probably on purpose, nose small and lips soft. But there’s also something sharp in his eyes, something attractively strong in the way his hand curls around the railing and the veins press against his skin. His fingers look nice, knuckles prominent.

Blinking a few times, he says, “Hey.”

Jimin lifts one of the glasses in his hands. “Care for a drink?”

There’s a slightly amused tilt to the man’s lips. Then he lifts his cigarette and leans back onto the railing. “Maybe after this.”

Jimin shrugs, before downing one of the drinks in a single go. He’s feeling a pleasant buzz by now, but certainly not enough for him to lose track of his actions. It takes a lot more for him to get drunk.

He sets the glass onto the floor and copies the man’s posture. “I’m Jimin.”

The man pauses where he’s about to bring the cigarette to his lips, glancing at Jimin out of the corner of his eye. “Yoongi.”

“Yoongi,” Jimin tries out for himself. He smiles. “You here often?”

Yoongi snorts gently. “Yeah, actually. You’re not, I suppose?”

“Nope,” Jimin admits. “But how’d you know? Do you just remember all the faces you see?”

Yoongi slowly exhales smoke and says, almost in a mumble, “Only if they’re as pretty as you.” Then he seems to realize it’s still loud enough for Jimin to hear, because he turns his head, eyes wide and cheeks stained pink. “I-I mean…”

“Aw,” Jimin turns to his side so that he’s facing Yoongi properly, leaning his hip against the railing. He sees the way Yoongi’s gaze flickers to where his shirt collar slips further down his shoulder. “You think I’m pretty?”

Yoongi takes a hasty drag of his cigarette, which prompts him into coughing. He hisses out a curse, ears visibly burning red even in the dim lighting. He awkwardly stubs the flame out against the wall.

Smirking, Jimin leans close. “I think you’re pretty, too.”

Yoongi seems to be too flustered to look directly at him. He’s really, really cute, and Jimin originally came here to have some more adventurous fun with a supernatural, but this is fine too. More than fine, really, because Yoongi blushes so prettily and he has big hands that look like they can get a little rough if prompted, the curve of his mouth both soft and enticing.

Suddenly, someone jumps onto Yoongi from behind, causing him to tighten his grip on the railing for support. Jimin himself takes a step back in surprise, eyes widening.

“Yoongi-yah!” the newcomer says, and Jimin recognizes him as the beautiful broad-shouldered man from the booth, “We’re getting more drinks downstairs, want some?”

He turns to Jimin, and Jimin realizes then that his eyes are a solid black, dark lines in the pattern of veins tracing over his exposed skin. It doesn’t make him look any less beautiful, if not a little intimidating, but the smile he sends Jimin is both friendly and mischievous. “Hello there, pretty boy. Who might you be?”

“Um,” Jimin says, gaze flickering quickly to Yoongi’s blushing face before returning to the other man’s. “I’m Jimin.”

The man gets off Yoongi’s back and gives Jimin his full attention. “Hello there, Jimin. I’m Seokjin.”

Yoongi, no longer carrying the physical burden of his friend’s weight, gently nudges Seokjin away. He looks rumpled now, like a disgruntled cat. “I don’t want any drinks. Go away now, please. And take Namjoon and Jungkook with you.” His eyes looks past Seokjin’s shoulder, and Jimin follows his gaze to where their booth is, the tall human from earlier and the boy with the tail cuddling closely together on the seats. Probably Namjoon and Jungkook.

“Aw, why’s that, Yoongi?” Seokjin says, planting his feet firmly on the ground despite Yoongi’s not-so-subtle nudges. “Are you scared I’ll embarrass you in front of Jimin?”

Yoongi grumbles unintelligibly in response, looking like he wants to be anywhere but here.

Seokjin promptly ignores Yoongi in favor of cheerfully talking to Jimin. “So, Jimin! Why’s a boy as cute as you chatting up this little raincloud over here?”

Jimin giggles, cheeks flushing pleasantly. He sends Yoongi a quick grin before looking back at Seokjin. “I think he’s pretty cute, actually.”

“Oh? You think he’s cute?” Seokjin asks. His grin turns positively evil, Yoongi looking like he’s dreading whatever his friend is about to say next. And then, “Even with the tentacles?”

Silence.

Seokjin’s face looks entirely satisfied with himself, while Yoongi seems like he’s considering digging a hole into the ground. Jimin, on the other hand, is trying to process whether he heard that right and Seokjin did indeed say—

“Tentacles?” Jimin hears his own voice squeak out.

“Oh yes,” Seokjin smiles even wider, pulling Yoongi in front of him. “Yoongles here has tentacles, thought you should know!” He winks. “Well, it was nice meeting you and all, but I’m gonna head down for a drink. I’ll leave you two here to get to know each other more!” Then with that he leaves, bowing grandly as though he’s just accomplished a huge task. His tone is all too suggestive when he says, “Have fun!”

Yoongi and Jimin stand in silence for a while more.

And then Yoongi is sinking into a crouch on the ground, looking like he’s moments away from just lying motionless on the floor. Jimin, feeling more and more amused by the situation as the seconds tick by, crouches down beside Yoongi. “So,” he begins, “tentacles?”

Yoongi looks like he’s in dire need of another smoke. “Yes,” he croaks out, “that… is something I have.”

Jimin can’t say he isn’t intrigued. “Do you hide them?”

“Well, I can’t exactly comfortably let them out unless I’m shirtless,” Yoongi says, and he seems embarrassed.

“Where are they?” Jimin asks curiously.

“Some on my sides,” Yoongi motions at the space just below his ribs, “the rest on my back.” Then he blinks at Jimin, and now he looks confused. “Why are you asking? You don’t think it’s weird?”

Jimin levels Yoongi with a flat look. “Yoongi, I saw a lady with spider legs coming out of her back earlier and barely reacted.”

That gets a small laugh out of Yoongi.

Taking it as a good sign, Jimin nudges their shoulders together and says, “The offer of drinks still stands, by the way. And maybe a dance if you want.”

“I don’t dance,” Yoongi says immediately, pushing back up to his feet. “But I can make exceptions for pretty boys.”

Jimin grins. Then he lets Yoongi pull him up to his feet.

 

***

 

Yoongi, Jimin quickly discovers, is a filthy liar.

It only takes two drinks and half a song, during which Jimin did not hold back in dancing all up in Yoongi’s space, for Yoongi to let loose and put a hand on Jimin’s hip. He does dance, maybe not as confidently as Jimin does, but he knows how to follow the rhythm and is actually able to match Jimin beat for beat.

Jimin laughs, and he’s maybe a little tipsy now, throwing his head back onto Yoongi’s shoulder where they’re tightly pressed, back-to-chest. Yoongi’s hands squeeze around his hip, before tentatively slipping past the hem of his shirt, just enough for him to touch the bare skin of Jimin’s waist. Jimin smiles at the touch, turning his head so he can press a kiss to Yoongi’s chin.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks, voice a purposeful slur.

He watches the way Yoongi’s throat bobs when he swallows. “Sure.”

Jimin grins sharply, stepping away so he can grab Yoongi’s hand and lead him outside. Neither of them have a car, so they huddle close on the sidewalk as they wait for a cab. Jimin shoots Hoseok a text to let him know he’s left the club, and he sees Yoongi do the same out of the corner of his eye.

Jimin nudges their shoulders together. “My place or yours?”

Yoongi makes a face. “I live with Jin-hyung, and I can’t promise he won’t barge in on purpose just to mess with me.”

“My place it is, then.” At least Jimin knows Hoseok has enough sense of self-preservation to not barge into Jimin’s room when he knows he has someone over. That, plus Hoseok is probably gonna be busy himself, tonight.

The ride back to his apartment does wonders to clear Jimin’s head, not that he was very far gone in the first place. He and Yoongi sit a foot apart in the backseat, occasionally throwing each other looks, and it seems as though Yoongi has reverted to being slightly shy if the way he keeps breaking eye contact is anything to go by.

There’s a bit of a delay once they reach the apartment, the two of them arguing over who should pay. Jimin insists that he should be the one to handle it since it’s his place, after all, but then Yoongi asks him his age and pulls out the older-than-you card.

“Not fair,” Jimin says, feeling himself pout as they wait for the elevator that’ll take them up to his unit. Yoongi just grins like he’s pleased with himself, and Jimin wants to wipe it off his face. So he does the first thing he thinks of and pulls Yoongi in by the collar, the older making a surprised noise when their mouths meet.

Yoongi’s lips are as soft as Jimin thought they’d be, if not a little dry. Jimin pushes closer until he’s crowding Yoongi against the wall beside the elevator doors, slipping a hand into Yoongi’s hair. Yoongi tugs at the fabric of his shirt, and Jimin kisses him deeper until Yoongi’s lips are parting beneath the touch of tongue and teeth. They both make a noise when their tongues meet, Jimin pressing closer still, feeling one of Yoongi’s hands trace down his spine before slipping into his back pocket.

Jimin tilts his head, just about to slip a knee between Yoongi’s own when the elevator dings and the doors open, letting out two college girls all dressed up for a late night out. Yoongi and Jimin jump apart, cheeks burning at being caught, but the girls just give them a nod as though to say they understand before exiting the building.

Jimin only allows himself to be embarrassed for all of a second before he’s dragging Yoongi into the elevator and pressing the button for their floor, the doors quickly sliding shut. He jumps slightly in surprise when he feels Yoongi’s arms wrap around him from behind, lips pressing wet kisses down his neck. Jimin tilts his head to allow Yoongi more access, and his gaze lands on the reflective wall of the elevator. Heat swirls in the pit of his stomach at the sight of them together.

The way from the elevator to Jimin’s front door is a bit of a blur. He doesn’t pay too much attention as he punches in his passcode and pushes inside, dragging Yoongi in by the front of his shirt and kissing him again the moment the door falls shut. Yoongi makes another noise of surprise as he’s yet again pushed into a wall, but he reacts quicker this time, hand pressing against the middle of Jimin’s back, the other tilting Jimin’s chin to the side as they kiss.

It’s a little sloppy, and Jimin can still faintly detect traces of alcohol on Yoongi’s tongue. He chases after the taste, the entire front of his body pressed against Yoongi’s, the slow swirl of heat in his stomach gradually intensifying as Yoongi kisses him back with just as much eagerness.

They only break the kiss when Yoongi begins tugging at Jimin’s shirt, prompting him to lift his arms so Yoongi can pull it off. Yoongi’s mouth immediately finds the dip of Jimin’s collarbone, teeth scraping against the skin before he sucks a mark onto the spot.

“Bedroom,” Jimin breathes out, tugging at Yoongi’s hair in an attempt to move them along, but Yoongi only pulls back once he’s satisfied with the mark he’s left on Jimin’s skin. Then he nods, eyes dark, and they nearly stumble their way into the bedroom.

Jimin doesn’t waste time with pulling Yoongi’s shirt off and pushing him down onto the bed. He’s just about to crawl on top of Yoongi when he remembers.

Tentacles, Seokjin had said.

A shudder runs through Jimin at the thought. His voice comes out croaky when he says, “Show me.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together, confused at first. Jimin patiently waits until he sees realization dawn on Yoongi’s features, and then there’s that flush again that Jimin is quickly becoming addicted to.

Pushing up into a sitting position, Yoongi takes a deep breath and tilts his head back. Jimin is momentarily distracted by the unmarked skin of his neck, pale in the moonlight streaming through the window, but then he sees the way two sets of slits appear on either side of Yoongi’s ribs. It’s mildly unsettling at first, but then Jimin sees the tentacles begin slithering out and his breath gets caught in his throat.

They’re slimmer than Jimin thought they’d be, perhaps just thick enough for him to be able to wrap his fingers around. But they’re very lengthy, dark and smooth-looking, tapering off into a rounded point. They writhe in the air for a moment before slinking onto the sheets, and then four more are appearing from Yoongi’s back. These ones are a lot thicker, the ends completely rounded. They hover in the air behind Yoongi, casting shadows onto the floor of Jimin’s room.

When Yoongi tips his head back down, his eyes are solid black.

Jimin feels positively breathless.

He shivers at the sight of Yoongi, both menacing and enticing. Yoongi watches him closely, like he’s waiting for Jimin to make a move.

Slowly, Jimin places a knee onto the bed and reaches for one of Yoongi’s tentacles. He runs his fingers over the rounded end, feeling its smooth texture, before he carefully curls a hand around it. The underside is a bit rougher, he realizes, probably for grip. But it’s nothing unpleasant. If anything, Jimin wonders what it’d feel like dragging along his bare skin.

He squeezes once, and sees Yoongi shudder. He lifts his eyes and meets Yoongi’s dark ones. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says. One of his tentacles crawls closer to Jimin, but doesn’t touch. “They’re pretty sensitive, though. Not used to people touching them.”

“Oh,” Jimin breathes out, fully kneeling on the bed now and shifting closer. He runs his hand over Yoongi’s tentacle with more confidence, lips parting as it wriggles beneath his touch. “You don’t let them out when you fuck?”

“Rarely,” Yoongi answers, and his voice sounds hoarse. “People tend to find them overwhelming.” Then, when Jimin doesn’t say anything, “Do you?”

“Kinda,” Jimin admits, rubbing his thumb over the rounded end when he reaches it. One of Yoongi’s tentacles wraps around his wrist, but doesn’t tug his touch away. He shivers. “But the good kind of overwhelming,” he adds as he tightens his grip, feeling the tentacle quiver in response, the one around his wrist squeezing once. He looks at Yoongi’s face, gauging his reaction. “Is this okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” Yoongi manages, before flopping back onto the bed and throwing an arm over his eyes. “Shit.”

Jimin would laugh at Yoongi’s reaction if he weren’t so busy being fascinated by Yoongi’s extra limbs. He slides his hand down the length of the one still in his grip, fingers adjusting as it gradually widens. The one on his wrist slithers further, curling down the entire length of his arm, and then another is tentatively touching his waist. He jumps in surprise, glancing down to see one of the thicker tentacles hovering by his waist. When he doesn’t do anything more, it slowly slithers around his back, the rounded end curling loosely around his hip.

Yoongi has his arm lifted just enough to be able to look at Jimin. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” Jimin shudders as the tentacle by his hip ghosts up his side, lightly tickling his ribs. The one around his arm tugs him forward, making him place a knee by Yoongi’s hip, the other between the older’s legs.

He leans down, pulling Yoongi’s arm away from his eyes, and kisses Yoongi wetly. Yoongi responds by slipping a hand on Jimin’s nape, lightly tugging at the strands of his hair. Jimin slips the knee between Yoongi’s legs higher until he has his thigh pressed against the front of Yoongi’s jeans, swallowing the moan Yoongi makes at the contact. Grinning into the kiss, Jimin reaches a hand down and unbuttons Yoongi’s jeans, quickly tugging the zipper down. He wastes no time slipping his hand inside and palming Yoongi through his underwear.

Yoongi turns his head, breaking the kiss. He gasps at the touch, and his tentacles writhe around them for all of a second, before they’re suddenly all over Jimin.

Jimin makes a noise of his own, forehead dropping into the crook of Yoongi’s neck as he feels the foreign appendages slip all over his body. There’s one wrapping more firmly around his waist, one slipping along the waistband of his jeans, one curling around the shape of his cock through the fabric, and god-knows-how-many mapping out his body—grazing his chest, ribs, teasing at his nipples and collarbones and neck.

It’s so, so overwhelming.

Jimin loves it.

He tries to reciprocate, slips a hand into Yoongi’s underwear and wraps his fingers around Yoongi’s cock. He’s half-hard, hot in his hand, and Jimin sets about a steady pace of pumping him. A hand grabs at the hair on the back of his head and pulls his face away from Yoongi’s neck, and Jimin has barely sucked in a breath before Yoongi’s mouth is on his own once more.

It’s more frantic this time, both of them gasping against each other’s lips. Jimin squeezes his eyes shut when he feels the button of his jeans come undone, and then there are far too many limbs tugging at his waistband, pulling the material down and off his legs. There’s a push against his shoulder, gentle but firm, and Jimin allows himself to be pressed into the bed.

His jeans come off completely, followed by his underwear. A tentacle immediately curls around his cock, making Jimin buck up, eyes flying open in surprise.

Yoongi’s gaze is dark. His hair is mussed, and he’s sitting up now, eyes raking over Jimin’s body. He has a hand wrapped around himself, tugging slowly as he watches Jimin, and Jimin arches his back in a way he knows is enticing. He grins, satisfied, upon hearing Yoongi curse.

“Take those pants off,” he says, reaching forward to knock Yoongi’s hand away and take his now fully-hard cock in his own grip.

Yoongi curses again, body curling inwards. Then he makes work of kicking both jeans and underwear off, which proves to be quite the challenge considering Jimin won’t let go of his cock. He manages after a minute of struggle, carelessly kicking the items aside before he’s on Jimin again.

It seems that they both like kissing a bit too much, not that Jimin is complaining. He likes this, likes the way their mouths keep meeting as they arch into each other. It’s slow, the way heat simmers beneath Jimin’s skin. He rocks his hips up into Yoongi, feeling how hard the other is. Yoongi rocks back, and Jimin subconsciously spreads his legs.

He jolts when he feels two of Yoongi’s thicker tentacles wrap around the now-bare skin of his thighs, nudging them even further apart. One teases along his chest, the thinner end rubbing over his hardened nipples, and—and there’s something different about their touch now, something smoother.

“Fuck,” he says, breaking the kiss and looking down at where a tentacle is teasing at his chest. It slithers over his skin, leaving a trail that glistens in the faint moonlight, and Jimin feels slick and wet and—

“Oh, yeah,” Yoongi says, like it’s an afterthought, pushing himself up to kneel between Jimin’s legs. “They self-lubricate.”

The ones wrapped around Jimin’s thighs shift, making his skin feel sticky, and another comes back to wrap around his cock and tug wetly, and Jimin can’t do anything but throw his head back.

“T-They,” he tries, voice both breathy and stuttery as the tentacle around his cock keeps pumping, “they just produce slick o-on their own?”

“When I get really turned on, yes,” Yoongi says. A tentacle crawls onto Jimin’s flat stomach, wet and slippery. “And they can individually come, too.”

Jimin takes a second to process that. When the meaning behind Yoongi’s words register, he finds himself letting out a stream of curses, arching his back further like he’s chasing the touch. “Yoongi, you better fuck me right now—”

Yoongi laughs, and it’s gruff, and oh god is this the same Yoongi who was just blushing himself silly a handful of minutes ago? Jimin’s response to his touches seem to have assured him in some way, his tentacles now moving more confidently, leaving wet trails all over Jimin’s skin.

It’s so, so hot.

Abruptly, Jimin’s thighs get pushed back, exposing him to Yoongi’s dark gaze. One of the tentacles with the thinner end slips its way down between his legs, the tip prodding at the skin of Jimin’s rim. Jimin moans softly at the touch, and that seems to spur Yoongi on, the tentacle now circling his rim more firmly. It keeps moving until Jimin feels sufficiently wet, and then the tip begins nudging inside, dipping in just an inch. It wriggles around but doesn’t move deeper just yet. Jimin clenches around it.

The tentacle teasing at his chest is joined by another, leaving slick touches on both of his nipples. Jimin’s hands try to find purchase on the sheets, but then tentacles wrap around each of his wrist, lightly pinning them either side of his head. The one on his stomach slips beneath him to wrap completely around his waist, at the same time the one inside him begins to nudge deeper.

Jimin’s mouth falls open in a quiet moan, thighs tensing. The tentacle moving deeper inside him is starting to feel roughly the size of two fingers, and it feels like it’s getting slicker. Yoongi’s thumb suddenly touches the skin around Jimin’s stretched hole, rubbing soothingly at it while simultaneously spreading the slick around. When Jimin glances down, he sees that Yoongi is pumping his own cock while he watches Jimin. The sight is hot enough on its own, but what makes the picture all the more overwhelming is how all of Yoongi’s tentacles are on Jimin’s body in some way, showering him with attention.

The tentacle inside him begins moving, pulling out and pushing back in. The thrusts are slow, getting Jimin used to the sensation, and Jimin drops his head back onto the pillow with a moan.

“Good?” Yoongi asks, voice quiet.

“Good,” Jimin manages. His eyes flutter when he feels Yoongi slip a finger into him, stretching him just that bit wider.

“Still good?”

“Fuck yeah,” Jimin says, managing a small laugh. It dies quickly when Yoongi adds another finger into the mix, steadily fucking into him while the tentacle seems to pause, writhing inside him like it’s searching. Jimin’s entire body twitches when the wet tip finds his prostate. “Fuck, fuck—”

The tip presses firmly into his spot, rubbing over it in maddening circles. At the same time, Yoongi’s fingers spread themselves apart, scissoring, opening Jimin wider. A tentacle wraps itself back around Jimin’s cock, the tip rubbing at the sensitive area beneath his head.

It’s—it’s a lot.

But it’s also, strangely, not enough. He voices this out to Yoongi, asks for more, and Yoongi responds by pulling out completely. Jimin opens his mouth to complain, but then the tentacle wrapped around his waist uncurls and slips between his legs. It nudges at his stretched rim, so much slicker and so much thicker than the one Jimin just had inside him. Slowly, it presses against his hole until there’s a give, until the rounded tip is slipping inside.

The stretch is wider, feels more like an actual cock pushing into him. It only pauses for a second before starting up with shallow thrusts that make Jimin’s breath hitch.

It feels more like an actual cock, but also not. There’s something more measured in the way the tentacle moves, something more controlled in the way it hits Jimin’s prostate head-on. It’s also slicker, but not in the way lube feels, though the sounds it produces are just as wet. Jimin’s cheeks burn as he feels himself squeeze around the intrusion.

The one around his cock is still rubbing insistently at the spot below his head, and Jimin can feel himself leaking precome, adding onto the mess of slick on his crotch. His back rubs against the sheets, damp with his own sweat, and his body feels all too hot, all too wet.

The tentacle slides in deeper, then. Deeper than any other cock has ever fucked into him, and Jimin twists in surprise, gasping loudly. The tentacle is a little wider now where Jimin’s rim is clamped tightly around it, and he can’t decide if he wants the thing to move again or stay just like this, pressed deep.

Yoongi seems to makes the decision for him when the tentacle begins pulling out, stopping when there’s about an inch left inside Jimin before promptly pushing back in. Jimin gasps, breaths pushed out of his lungs at the movement. It fucks into him like this, speeding up as Jimin’s body gets used to the intrusion. The grip around Jimin’s thighs loosens, enough so that Jimin can plant his feet back onto the bed and fuck back onto the tentacle.

He feels so full in a way that’s achingly deep. Heat pools in his stomach, causing him to fuck up into the tentacle still wrapped around his cock, and the one in his ass doesn’t relent in pushing up against his prostate. Jimin’s panting, slick all over his body, and then one of the thinner tentacles is suddenly on his chin, tapping at his lower lip before experimentally slipping inside. Jimin moans, eyes squeezing shut as he readily sucks it in.

It slides over his tongue wetly, staying there for a moment before slipping out and then pushing back in, mimicking the way the tentacle in his ass is fucking into him. Jimin gasps, entire body shivering. It’s almost sensory overload, the way there are so many slick limbs moving over his body, in his body, and the heat in his stomach tightens into a telltale coil.

He flicks his tongue over the tip of the tentacle in his mouth. The ones wrapped around his wrists slip further until Jimin can wrap a hand around them, and he doesn’t give much thought before he’s frantically jerking them off. They seem to like it, if the way they turn even wetter in Jimin’s hold is anything to go by, and there’s even more slick now, so much of it, dripping past Jimin’s fingers and slipping down his wrist and arm until there’s undoubtedly a pool of it in the sheets.

He’s close, he’s so close. He tries to communicate this to Yoongi, but all that comes out of his mouth is a wet and garbled kind of sound. He thinks it’s obvious, though, in the way his body can’t stop shaking, in the way he’s drooling—and then he’s not thinking at all as he feels another tentacle petting at his rim, before trying to wedge inside just so , and Jimin is coming so hard he arches off the bed.

He feels—he feels too many things at once, impossible to keep track of yet so vivid at the same time.

Come spurts up his stomach, possibly reaching his chest. The grip around his cock squeezes and pumps, forcing a few more drops out of him. The tentacle in his mouth pulls out, and not even a second later he feels something thicker spurting against his chin, neck, collarbones, as the tentacle slithers down his body. The ones in his hands simultaneously climax, coating his fingers in the thicker substance, and it’s not much later that the one fucking into him shakes near-violently and pumps more come into him.

Jimin falls back onto the bed, chest heaving. He moans softly when the tentacle in his ass carefully slips out, come immediately dripping out of him in the process. His fingers twitch and he feels wet everywhere. He’s sure he looks a complete mess, and he probably needs to shower before he can even think about sleeping, but he’s also incredibly satisfied. He lifts a hand to his face and sees how sticky his fingers are, and out of curiosity, he slips one into his mouth. His other hand runs down his chest, trailing over the come and slick there.

He hears a groan. Lazily, he lifts his head and sees Yoongi sitting back, watching him. His cock is still hard, a tentacle wrapped around it and pumping as his gaze rakes over Jimin’s messy form.

Oh, shit. Jimin had been too focus on being, well, completely overwhelmed that he forgot about Yoongi.

He pushes himself up and sits on his knees. Gently, he nudges the tentacle around Yoongi’s cock away, wrapping his own hand around it and pumping once. The slide is made easier by all the slick, and Yoongi groans as his head falls back.

“Y-You,” he begins, shuddering when Jimin thumbs at his slit, “you don’t have to. I can handle myself, you’re probably—fuck—tired.”

“Oh, Yoongi,” Jimin laughs, voice rougher, “you underestimate me.”

And with that, he’s shifting on his knees until he can bend down and take Yoongi’s cock into his mouth. He moans at the taste, wrapping his lips around the head and licking into the slit. Satisfaction pools in his gut when he hears Yoongi grunt his name, fingers slipping into his hair. They don’t tug, but the weight of having them on the back of his head is comforting.

Jimin gets to work, wrapping a hand around Yoongi’s base and sinking down halfway. He drags his tongue up the length of Yoongi’s cock, feeling his own spit pool over the side of his hand. When he shifts on his knees in order to find better balance, he feels come drip past his rim and slowly trickle down his thighs. He feels… filthy. He feels positively filthy, and it only makes his blood run hotter.

“Jimin, shit,” Yoongi moans, and his thigh trembles when Jimin puts a hand on it. “That feels so good.”

Jimin hums around the cock in his mouth, pleased. He sucks noisily as he pulls up, grinning sharply up at Yoongi. “You like that?”

Yoongi’s lips part as he looks down at Jimin. There’s a lovely flush to his cheeks, and his hair is even more mussed, as though he ran a hand through it. His eyes are still a solid black, but his entire face tells Jimin that he’s also overwhelmed by the situation.

Jimin nuzzles his cheek against Yoongi’s cock, flicking his tongue out. He flutters his lashes. “Do I make you feel good?”

Yoongi gulps, fingers twitching in Jimin’s hair. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Jimin says, angling Yoongi’s cock so the head touches his lower lip. “You can fuck me again while I suck you off.”

“Wh—” Yoongi’s question chokes off into a moan when Jimin sinks back down on his cock, nearly taking all of it in one go. Jimin works his throat around it, slowly lowering himself the rest of the way until he can feel Yoongi’s tip touching his throat. He holds it there a moment, before swallowing around the head, the grip of his throat tightening.

Yoongi chokes on another moan, the tremble of his thigh intensifying.

At the same time, Jimin feels one of Yoongi’s tentacles crawling up his thigh, dragging over the dripping come. It pets over Jimin’s loose rim, testing, and Jimin shudders even as he spreads his legs further apart in encouragement.

He’s sore, but not as much as he thought he’d be. His rim feels sensitive but in a way that he likes, and when the tentacle nudges its way inside, Jimin’s body welcomes it.

It thrusts shallowly into him, making him moan around his mouthful. The vibration makes Yoongi’s thighs squeeze around his head for a moment, before falling back apart. Jimin begins bobbing his head up and down on Yoongi’s cock, pressing a hand on the older’s stomach as he does.

The tentacle in his ass seems to be avoiding his prostate so as not to push him into oversensitivity, which Jimin appreciates. His cock is still mostly soft where it hangs between his legs, but he can feel it twitching back to life every now and then. He thinks it won’t take too long before he’s ready to get fucked again for real.

The thought makes his blood thrum in excitement, the pace of his head quickening as he wraps a hand back around Yoongi’s base to keep him steady. He can taste Yoongi’s precome where it drips onto his tongue, and when he pulls off, he focuses his ministrations on the tip.

He slides his hand up until he has a thumb pressed beneath the head of Yoongi’s cock, rubbing insistently and coaxing more precome out. He dips the pad of his index finger into the slit, grinning as he hears Yoongi’s breath hitch.

It’s easy to get his entire finger wet, considering the amount of come and slick and spit there is. Slowly, Jimin drags his finger down the length of Yoongi’s cock, teasing over his balls for a moment before finally slipping between Yoongi’s legs. He presses a damp finger against Yoongi’s rim, rubbing over it teasingly, loving the way Yoongi moans lowly at the touch. He feels the bed shift as Yoongi spreads his legs more in silent encouragement, and then Jimin is slipping his finger in, feeling Yoongi clench around him almost immediately.

He gets back to sucking Yoongi’s cock as he slowly fucks his finger in. The tentacle inside him seems to get a bit more frantic with its movements, pushing in harder now, Yoongi’s control slipping as his pleasure intensifies. Jimin moans and pushes his hips back, feeling his cock slowly but surely harden again. When the tentacle nudges at his prostate, his thighs begin shaking.

Suddenly there are tentacles wrapping around his knees, pulling apart until Jimin is lying flat on his stomach. He makes a noise of surprise, almost choking around Yoongi’s cock in the process. The tentacle in his ass nudges deeper at the action, forcing Jimin to pull off so he can suck in a breath. He presses his forehead against Yoongi’s thigh, trying to keep the motions of his finger inside Yoongi going, even as the tentacle inside him speeds up and drags his cock along the messy sheets in the process.

Jimin sucks in another breath and pulls his finger out, rubbing the pad of it over Yoongi’s rim repeatedly. His other hand busies itself with pumping Yoongi’s cock, movement uncoordinated as his hips fuck against the mattress. The tentacle moves even more frantically inside him, pushing in so deep Jimin almost feels it in his stomach.

And then, quite abruptly, it comes.

Jimin moans loudly, eyes rolling back as he feels more come getting pumped into him. He writhes on the sheets, hips twitching as the tentacle messily fucks him through it. Come drips out of him on every pull out, staining his sheets so badly Jimin is starting to think no amount of washing is going to save them. He feels sticky all over, inside and out, but he’s still so hard and he wants to come again so badly and he really, really wants Yoongi to fuck him with his cock and make an even bigger mess of him.

He whimpers when the tentacle slips out, and then he’s being moved, hands slipping beneath his armpits to tug him up. Jimin shudders as he slumps his entire weight onto Yoongi, and it’s a little gross now how their skins stick to each other, considering the come on his body is starting to dry.

He still wants more, anyway.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks, voice cracking. One of his hands cradles Jimin’s cheek.

Jimin smiles and kisses Yoongi’s chin. “Still okay. More than okay, really.” He pushes his hips forward, ruts against Yoongi’s stomach. “M’hard again. Want to come another time.”

Yoongi laughs like he can’t believe what he’s hearing, but also like he thinks Jimin is amazing. “How d’you want it this time?”

“Mm,” Jimin hums, reaching between them to grip Yoongi’s cock. “Want to ride you.”

“Shit,” Yoongi says, but doesn’t protest.

It takes a bit of maneuvering through the soiled sheets, until both of them realize there’s no possible way for them to completely avoid the mess they’ve made. Yoongi looks embarrassed by this, probably because most of the mess came from his tentacles, but Jimin just laughs hoarsely and swings a leg over his hip once Yoongi’s settled against the headboards.

His thighs are shaking ever-so-slightly, already beginning to feel exhaustion, but Jimin is determined. And also in desperate need of another orgasm. Yoongi seems to notice him trembling, though, because his hands hold steadily around Jimin’s waist, his tentacles hovering nearby as though ready to hold Jimin up if need be. “Are you sure you’re still good to keep going? We can take a quick break, maybe get you cleaned up a bit.”

At the suggestion, Jimin suddenly remembers the way come is still steadily trickling down his thighs, as well as drying pretty much on most of him. But there’s something incredibly satisfying about feeling so utterly filthy that gets Jimin’s blood boiling hotter, so he just says, “You’re really, really sweet, you know that?” before reaching for Yoongi’s cock behind him and pressing the head against his fucked-open rim.

“Fuck,” Yoongi curses, fingers digging into the skin of Jimin’s waist in surprise.

“Fuck,” Jimin echoes, pressing down, Yoongi’s cock slipping in easily due to how loose he’s become. The slide down is wet, wetter than anything Jimin’s ever experienced, Yoongi’s cock pushing out more of the come from within Jimin’s body. There’s some of the leftover slick from the tentacles as well, pooling on Yoongi’s crotch in a dirty puddle. When Jimin drops all the way down, he can feel the mix of fluids messily clinging to the skin of his ass.

Yoongi drops his head forward, pressing his forehead against Jimin’s shoulder. His breathing is also shaky, legs trembling almost imperceptibly beneath Jimin. Jimin realizes that Yoongi is also definitely overwhelmed by all of this, because even with how much Jimin has already gotten fucked, Yoongi himself has yet to come. He feels a full-body shudder go through him as Yoongi begins mouthing at his skin, not with the intention to leave any marks, but just to feel. It’s comforting, and with a deep breath, Jimin begins to move.

Yoongi is thick, filling him up nicely even after Jimin has experienced the incomparable fullness of Yoongi’s tentacles. It doesn’t take long for Jimin to find the angle that lets Yoongi’s cock press right into his prostate, making him clench down. Yoongi’s moan is muffled against Jimin’s skin, arms loosely wrapped around Jimin’s waist, neither guiding nor restricting.

Jimin keeps his movements slow, deep. Yoongi lets him set the pace, but after a while, his tentacles seem to seek contact, slipping along the sheets and crawling up both of their bodies. Jimin shudders as some of the tentacles slide their way up his chest and stay there, a few wrapping loosely around his torso. When one flicks wetly at his nipples, his knee slips against the sheets and he ends up sitting down completely, fucking himself hard onto Yoongi’s cock. He lets out a groan at the same time Yoongi does, and then suddenly Yoongi is moving, small upward motions of his hips that jab directly at Jimin’s prostate.

Yoongi is obviously chasing his release at this point, whatever else that was holding him back finally snapping completely as his tentacles writhe and wrap more firmly around Jimin. He fucks up into Jimin quickly, barely pulling out it almost feels like he’s rutting into Jimin’s body, so achingly deep it makes Jimin’s eyes roll back as his own cock spurts more precome between them.

He’s going to come just like this, Jimin thinks—trembling but unable to move away now that Yoongi’s tentacles are keeping him firmly up, left no choice but to take what Yoongi is giving him. He’s sporadically squeezing around Yoongi’s cock, continuously dripping even with how long Yoongi’s been fucking him already, because there’s just so much come and slick inside him. His nails, from where he’s found purchase on Yoongi’s shoulders at some point, bite into Yoongi’s skin without care. But Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind, or he doesn’t even notice, too caught up in chasing his own release, in the feeling of Jimin’s wet heat clenching around him.

Jimin feels vaguely like he’s being used, his body nothing more than a means to give Yoongi pleasure. He finds that he absolutely loves the feeling.

He’s drooling, mouth open in a silent moan, toes curling into the sheets. His entire body begins shaking in Yoongi’s hold, thighs threatening to squeeze as he feels his own orgasm approaching rapidly. But tentacles quickly wrap around his thighs and keep them apart, spreading them even further so that Yoongi has more space to fuck up into him. The tip of a tentacle is still circling his nipples, adding to the sensation, and then suddenly another one is pressing wetly against his dripping cock.

Jimin chokes on a moan as he fucks his own hips forward as much as possible, rutting against the tentacle. The slick drag combined with the way Yoongi is nailing his prostate proves to be too much for Jimin, because the next time Yoongi fucks into him, pushing his cock completely inside Jimin, Jimin comes with a scream.

His entire body twitches as his cock spurts between them, hips grinding back-and-forth to chase most of the feeling. He faintly hears Yoongi choke out a curse, and then even more come is flooding Jimin’s insides, warm and wet and perfect. He whimpers, slumping forward against Yoongi when the tentacles finally loosen their hold around him and slip away. Yoongi holds him close immediately, nose pressed into the crook of his neck, breaths loud.

The atmosphere is heavy with the sound of their combined breathing. Jimin slowly begins to feel the soreness catch up to his body, making him feel exhausted beyond words. But at the same time, he’s never been this satiated after a fuck before. He smiles lazily, pushing back just enough so he can nudge Yoongi into looking at him.

Yoongi’s eyes are lidded in a sleepy way, lips parted like he’s in a daze. Jimin laughs, nudging their mouths together in a kind-of kiss, causing Yoongi to scrunch his nose adorably.

Jimin smiles. “Hey.”

Yoongi leans forward and kisses him properly, slow but deep. Jimin holds Yoongi’s face between his hands as he’s kissed, letting Yoongi lick into his mouth, tongues meeting. When they pull apart, Yoongi says, “Hey.” Then he looks between them, nose scrunching once more. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

Jimin clings to him. “I feel lazy.”

“Jimin,” Yoongi says, sounding a bit disturbed, “trust me, you do not want to go to sleep like this. You have come, like. Everywhere.”

Jimin wants to whine, but he knows Yoongi is right. “Fine. You have to carry me, though.”

“Am I strong enough for that,” Yoongi mutters, even as he fixes his hold around Jimin, getting ready to get the both of them off the bed.

“Your tentacles are,” Jimin giggles, which turns into a soft moan when Yoongi’s softened cock slides out of him, quickly followed by a trail of come. He hides his face in Yoongi’s neck as the soreness in his ass catches up to him, and then he’s being lifted from the bed, Yoongi grunting with effort.

They shower as quickly as possible, Yoongi scrubbing the dried come and sweat off of Jimin’s legs while Jimin takes care of his upper body. There’s only a bit of a delay when Yoongi goes to clean Jimin up from the inside, reaching around so he can slip two fingers into Jimin’s loosened hole and push whatever remaining slick out, a leg propped up on Yoongi’s hip for easier access. Jimin moans softly and pulls Yoongi into a kiss, the feeling of Yoongi’s fingers inside him still welcome though his body is definitely too sensitive for them to take it any further.

When they’re finally out of the shower and changed into clean clothes, Jimin lies down on the carpet in his room as Yoongi changes the sheets. He demands to be carried back to bed once it’s back to an acceptable state, and then they’re finally lying down side by side, ready to pass out.

Only, Jimin’s phone pings with a text.

“Ugh,” he groans, reaching for his bedside table only to realize that his phone isn’t there. He pushes himself up, looking around his room until his gaze lands on his jeans where they’ve been thrown onto the floor. He reaches off the bed and just manages to drag his jeans towards him, pulling his phone out and checking the screen.

Hobi-hyung: i might come home real late? or early depending on how you look at it ig?? im in a mcdonalds rn taehyung dragged me here bc he was craving a cheeseburger so. anyways hope u had fun with whoever ur with

Two more texts come in quick succession before Jimin can even begin thinking of a reply.

Hobi-hyung: nvm im not coming home AT ALL hes giving me bedroom eyes across the table rn and hes eating the cheeseburger all sexy and stuff HOW is he even doing that

Hobi-hyung: looks like im getting laid tonight lol ill see you for lunch tomorrow maybe, i havent fucked tae yet but i already know i want to take him out for breakfast in the morning

Jimin grins after sending Hoseok a series of emojis, then he puts his phone down on his bedside. He lies back down, turning his head only to find Yoongi already asleep, cheek smushed against the pillow, barely-dried hair sticking away from his forehead. Jimin muffles a laugh, turning onto his side with his cheek pillowed on his palm. Exhaustion pulls at his eyelids, his body feeling the aftermath of their intense fucking session, and the last thing he sees before drifting off into unconsciousness is the way Yoongi’s lips purse adorably, as though dreaming.

 

***

 

Jimin’s immediate thought upon opening his eyes is that everything is sore.

Not in a bad way, but definitely in a way that makes him want to stay curled up in bed all day and get pampered. There’s a pleasant lingering ache in his thighs when he moves to stretch, a tingling phantom sensation tickling at his skin. He turns, only to find the other side of his bed empty. Disappointment very quickly curls in his gut, even though he knows how one-night-stands usually go, but before it can settle he hears puttering coming from his kitchen.

Sitting up quickly (and immediately regretting it when he puts weight on his ass, because ow), he grabs his phone to check if Hoseok has sent him any texts about coming home. He only finds one sent at 5AM: yea im definitely taking tae out for breakfast and maybe dinner on a different day, drink water if youre hungover when u see this! im gonna pass out now

It’s only a little past 9, so chances of Hoseok being the one in their kitchen are low.

Jimin feels hope and anticipation pound in his chest as he walks out of his bedroom. The trek towards the kitchen is short, and he feels himself expel a breath at the sight that greets him.

Yoongi, still wearing the pale knit sweater Jimin lent him last night, moving about the kitchen as though cooking is something he does often. Something is frying in the pan and Jimin can see that his rice cooker’s been used, the kettle set on the stove and two mugs sitting on the countertop.

Quietly, Jimin tiptoes across the kitchen until he can see what Yoongi is doing. There are eggs in the pan, probably the only decent things Yoongi found in their fridge (Jimin and Hoseok really need to go grocery shopping soon), and Jimin feels warm and giddy as he wraps his arms around Yoongi’s waist.

Yoongi jumps a little in surprise, but to his credit, doesn’t stop tending to the eggs. Jimin hooks his chin over the older’s shoulder. “Good morning.”

Yoongi hums, taking the eggs off the pan and setting them onto a plate, movements practiced. Jimin is so stupidly attracted to him.

“Morning, hope you don’t mind me going through your stuff.” Yoongi scratches behind his ear, looking sheepish and a little flushed. “I figured, after the workout I gave you last night, this is the least I can do.”

Jimin, without really thinking about it, presses a kiss just below Yoongi’s ear. Yoongi hums like he doesn’t mind.

“Thank you.”

They eat breakfast quietly, occasionally sending glances at each other before looking away with a blush. The entire thing feels domestic to Jimin, and it’s a bit difficult for him to believe that he just met Yoongi last night, at a supernaturals-inclusive club of all places, before going back to his apartment to get the fucking of his life. Once they’ve piled the dishes into the sink, they both hover around each other, unsure as to what to do next.

“Um,” Yoongi says, rubbing at the nape of his neck, “I should go, I guess?”

Jimin shrugs, reaching over to fiddle with the sleeve of Yoongi’s (his) sweater. “Only if you want to.”

Yoongi looks at him hopefully. “Or I could stay?”

Jimin smiles, tugging Yoongi towards him by his sleeve. “I mean, I could use some help washing my sheets. This lovely tentacled gentleman showed me the time of my life last night, you see, and consequently soiled the sheets.”

Yoongi is blushing, but he’s wrapping an arm around Jimin’s waist, pulling them flush against each other. “I’ll help you wash them,” he says, before adding in a mutter, “so long as you never call me a tentacled gentleman ever again.”

Jimin laughs, pulling Yoongi into a kiss just because he can.

He has a real good feeling about this.