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my love has but one name

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jimin, if seokjin had to describe him, is what most people would consider a sweet kid. a little bit of a brat sometimes, but in a way that’s ultimately endearing. maybe even cute, if seokjin’s in the right mood for it. it’s one of his most charming qualities. it’s why yoongi always humours his tiniest whims, it’s why namjoon watches him with the fondest look in his eyes, why taehyung chooses him with whom to share his dearest secrets.

(it’s one of the reasons seokjin…well, maybe it’s not the right moment for that quite yet.)

anyways.

jimin hasn’t quite felt like himself lately. at least, it doesn’t feel that way to seokjin. and maybe it’s just that seokjin is overthinking things, or maybe he’s just being too sensitive, but he feels like…jimin really has been exceptionally annoying lately.

 

  

“uh,” jungkook raises his eyebrow at seokjin and says, “no, he hasn’t? he’s the same as always?”

seokjin tries to steal a piece of sushi off of jungkook’s plate. jungkook stabs his wandering hand with his chopsticks. “fuck,” seokjin winces and glares at the other boy, before returning to the subject at hand. “no, i swear, it’s so strange. he keeps stealing all my food from the fridge, and then when i ask him about it, he says he didn’t know it was mine? even though it had my name on it? and then yesterday, he came into my room without knocking, stared at me for like three minutes, and then left without saying anything. isn’t that weird?”

jungkook shrugs and pops a piece of pickled ginger into his mouth. “sure, i guess. it’s kind of odd, but maybe he’s just got a lot on his mind. i haven’t noticed anything though.”

“don’t talk with your mouth full,” seokjin says, mildly disgusted. jungkook sticks his tongue out. it still has half-chewed ginger on it. gross.

“should we order more tuna? i’m still hungry.”

seokjin frowns at him. “why do i feel like you’re not taking me seriously.”

jungkook sighs, exasperated. he sets his chopsticks down on the table and asks, “did you seriously bring me to this nice, expensive sushi restaurant just to ask me why jimin’s acting weird? which, by the way, i don’t really think is that big an issue.”

seokjin feels the tips of his ears flush. “well, you wouldn’t listen to me otherwise, would you,” he says crossly.

“nope.”

seokjin rolls his eyes and tries to steal another roll of sushi from jungkook’s plate. this time, jungkook lets him. “look,” jungkook says, “why don’t you just wait and see what happens? i’m sure if there’s actually a problem, he’ll say something. he’s not someone who’ll just let things fester like that, right? whatever you think you’re noticing, it’ll probably stop in a couple of days.”

“i guess,” seokjin agrees reluctantly.

“good.” jungkook grins and continues, “now order more tuna, and don’t forget you’re the one who’s paying.”

 

 

it does not stop. in fact, it gets worse. jimin basically stops talking to seokjin. not in any obvious way - it actually takes seokjin a while to even figure it out. he still answers whenever seokjin calls him, and laughs at seokjin’s stupid jokes whenever they’re all together at the company, or in the dorms. yet, somehow, before seokjin’s even realized it, it’s been over a week since he and jimin have actually been alone together. and, once seokjin starts seeking jimin out, he realizes jimin is actually actively avoiding him. then, once he figures that out, he notices that even when they’re talking in a group, jimin never once directs a comment his way.

and, he’s only like this towards seokjin.

(fuck. fuck. fuck. he knows. he has to know, right? why else would he be acting like this? even though seokjin’s hidden it so well, for so long, it couldn’t last forever, could it?)

so, seokjin doesn’t say anything. he stops his eyes from following jimin whenever he enters the room, he stops paying attention to the way his body curls in on itself when he laughs, he stops listening for the sound of jimin’s high-pitched giggles.

he tries to, at least.

sometimes, he thinks he feels jimin’s gaze on the nape of his neck, but he squashes the feeling down. he doesn’t want to leave any room for wishful thinking, not anymore.

 

 

seokjin’s not completely an idiot though, so he follows jimin’s lead and acts like nothing’s changed in front of the others. he talks to jimin if he needs something, and neither of them ever let it affect their work, because they’re professionals like that.

“hey, jimin,” seokjin nudges the other boy with his foot under the table.

jimin looks up from his conversation with taehyung. “what’s up, hyung?”

around them, the aroma of sizzling meat fills the air. yoongi’s grilling the beef with hoseok, and namjoon and jungkook are both playing some game on their phones while they wait for their share. seokjin is settled into jungkook’s side, peering over his shoulder occasionally to see the other boy’s phone screen. wordlessly, jungkook’s shifted his body to let seokjin in closer so he has a better view. it’s comfortable. they haven’t all gathered like this for a meal in a while, and seokjin wants to treasure every moment of it.

“can you pass the radish over here,” seokjin nods his head towards the bowl of radish kimchi by jimin’s side. jimin smiles, his eyes crinkling into crescents as he slides the radish over but doesn’t take his hand away.

“uh,” seokjin says, confused. he tries to take the bowl but jimin doesn’t budge. “jimin…?”

jimin’s still smiling, but his gaze is trained on seokjin with an intensity that makes seokjin shiver. “say please, hyung.”

seokjin blinks.

and blinks again.

beside him, he can sense that jungkook’s gone completely still.

“hyung,” jimin repeats. it might just be seokjin’s imagination, but has jimin’s tone dropped a register lower? seokjin is beginning to get flustered, and he hopes the heat rushing up his neck all the way to the tips of his ears isn’t as visibly evident as it feels. jimin is still looking at him. “say please,” he commands.

(vaguely, seokjin thinks he hears taehyung mutter an annoyed oh my god under his breath, but his attention is captured too entirely by jimin right now to take note of anything else.)

“um,” seokjin begins, sounding far more strangled than he would like. he coughs, then continues, voice soft enough to almost disappear into the puffs of smoke wafting from the grill.

please.”

jimin lets go.

all the tension in seokjin’s shoulders vanishes. it’s like the last few moments were some of kind of twisted alternate reality, and now they’ve all returned to the real world. across from him, jimin leans back, a satisfied tug to his lips.

“there,” he says, “that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

 

 

jungkook corners seokjin in his bedroom when they get home after dinner. “okay,” he says, “you were right, and that was really fucking weird and uncomfortable. i feel gross and i don’t even know why.”

seokjin avoids eye contact. gross is not quite the way he would call what he’s feeling right now, but he’s also not willing to put it into words either. especially not to jungkook. “yeah,” he says instead, “i told you.”

it’s silent for a couple of seconds. then, jungkook bites his lip and asks, “are you okay? do you want me to talk to him for you?”

oh, seokjin suddenly understands with a pleasant warmth dawning inside of him. jungkook is worried for him. “you’re cute,” he says fondly, reaching up to ruffle his fingers through jungkook’s hair. “but forget about it. it’s probably nothing, and i can handle it.”

besides, he thinks, it’s bad enough that jimin, and by association, taehyung, know about his little crush. yeah, he’s finally ready to call it what it is. a naive, fanciful crush that seokjin should have nipped in the bud, but instead he’s let it churn for far too long. he bids jungkook good night, and settles into his blankets after changing into his pajamas. burying his face into his pillow, he remembers the way jimin’s eyes had seemed hot enough to burn a hole into seokjin’s skin. involuntarily, jimin’s low voice rings in seokjin’s ears, encompassing his mind in a sharp fervor.

say please.”

with a jolt, seokjin suddenly realizes he’s hard. ashamed, he squeezes his eyes tightly together, but still allows his hand to wander under the waistband of his pants and wrap firmly around his dick. slowly, he starts to rock his hips against his mattress. “jimin,” he pants softly, voice muffled. his trembling fingers move up and down in long, wavering strokes as he repeats jimin’s words over and over again in his brain. “please, jimin,” he moans out, before he can control it, “please, please, please.”

with a shudder, he comes into his hand, sticky and warm.

as the adrenaline recedes, the post-orgasm guilt descends onto him. “i shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers to himself.

then, for a moment, he thinks he hears a sound outside his room. he freezes, heart thundering in his ears. he waits, counts one, two, three, all the way until he gets to thirty.

there’s nothing. he breathes a sigh of relief, and returns to feeling sorry for himself.

  

 

if seokjin had to put a name to what he’s feeling, it would be…uneasy. that’s not quite right, though. it doesn’t seem to encompass the heavy stones that have settled into his gut, pressing down on his insides until it feels like every breath requires effort. it’s suffocating. seokjin doesn’t like it.

so he gathers his courage and figures out he needs to confront jimin. that’s the root of all his problems, isn’t it?

he manages to catch the other boy on his way to the bathroom when they come home after practice one day. “jimin,” seokjin calls out. jimin turns around.

all of sudden, faced with jimin staring at him with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, seokjin freezes. jimin waits, then, when it doesn’t seem like seokjin is going to continue, he shifts to leave. before he realizes he’s even made a move, seokjin has gripped jimin’s thin wrist in his fingers.

“you’re stealing my food,” seokjin says, and that’s not what he wanted to say at all.

jimin blinks. “do you want me to stop,” he asks, the corner of his mouth quirked to one side.

seokjin wants to slam his head against the wall. “yes,” he says crossly.

“okay,” jimin shrugs. “i’ll stop. is there anything else you want from me?”

avoiding eye contact, seokjin feels himself flush under jimin’s scrutiny. he shakes his head, but he knows it’s unconvincing. he glances up when he hears jimin’s quiet giggles. the sound feels like a splash of warm water after so long without it. seokjin’s heart aches.

“you’re cute, hyung,” jimin’s smile is soft, softer than it has any right to be. it’s unfair for jimin to look like that, seokjin thinks. not when he knows what seokjin thinks about it. belatedly, he realizes he’s still holding onto jimin. his grip loosens, but before he can take it back, jimin maneuvers his hand in one quick motion so that now he’s the one with seokjin in his grasp.

“tell me what you want,” jimin says. it doesn’t sound like he’s giving seokjin a choice.

there’s a lot of things seokjin wants from him.

he knows his limits. but. jimin was offering, wasn’t he? and maybe seokjin could ask for one tiny little thing. it was jimin’s fault for offering, he repeats in his head.

he looks at jimin, gaze challenging. “give me a hug. that’s what i want from you.”

it’s not what seokjin expects, but jimin’s face lights up with a delighted grin. “okay,” he says, and pulls seokjin close to him. seokjin tucks himself into jimin, letting the smaller boy stand on his tiptoes to wrap his arms tightly around seokjin’s shoulders. “i didn’t expect you to be honest with yourself,” jimin says, voice muffled against seokjin’s ears. “i like it. you should do it more often.”

seokjin snorts, and doesn’t reply. his heart is hammering in his chest, so loud he’s sure jimin can feel it against his own. he tries to remove himself from their tangle of limbs, but jimin tightens his hold.

“just because i know,” jimin says, so low it’s just barely a breath that seokjin feels brushing against the skin of his neck, “doesn’t mean i don’t want to hear you ask me for it, hyung.”

throat tightly closing in on itself, seokjin gathers his strength and shoves jimin away, perhaps a little too roughly. jimin stumbles back a step. seokjin swallows his guilt and forces his eyes to look straight ahead. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

jimin’s eyes flash with something deep and unfamiliar. when he speaks again, his voice is like silk, but there’s something deadly about it. “that’s not what it sounded like last night,” he smiles humourlessly, “you didn’t have any problem calling for me then, did you?”

all the blood drains straight from seokjin’s face.

“yeah,” jimin continues, almost malicious, “i heard you. i came to your room to apologize, and all i found was you gasping out my name. did you want me that badly?”

“jimin,” seokjin says, quiet and strangled. “please, stop. please.”

at the tone of seokjin’s words, jimin freezes. they stand together in deafening silence for a few moments, before jimin says, gently, “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that. i lost my temper.”

seokjin nods shakily, still pale. “i have to go,” he says. “i need to—”

he turns and flees. behind him, there’s a moment’s pause, and then the sound of jimin’s clattering footsteps pounding against the wooden floorboards.

“hyung,” jimin cries after him, “wait.”

seokjin runs even faster. when he gets to his bedroom, he darts inside and slams the door shut, before sinking down to the ground with his head in his hands. anxiety courses through his blood, turning his limbs to gelatin. a sharp knock echoes on the other side of his door, sending vibrations down his spine where his back rests against it.

“seokjin-hyung,” jimin’s voice cajoles, muffled slightly by the barrier between them. “please open the door?”

seokjin shakes his head, knowing jimin can’t see him. he doesn’t hear anything for a while. it begins to seem like jimin might have left. gradually, seokjin starts to relax.

as if on cue, jimin starts talking again. “i’m sorry. this isn’t how i wanted to talk to you, and i went too far.” he takes a deep breath. “i figured out you liked me a while ago. honestly, i had no idea how to feel about it at first, since i’d never thought about you romantically before. i didn’t know how to act around you anymore.”

seokjin pulls his knees up to his chest and squeezes his eyes shut. he really doesn’t want to hear this right now.

why won’t jimin just shut up and go away.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about it,” jimin presses on, “i couldn’t stop thinking about you. i kept watching you, trying to figure out why you liked me. somehow, before i even realized it, i started thinking you were kind of cute.” he laughs, then says, “you know, you’re kind of really obvious about it, too. i don’t know how i didn’t figure it out sooner. you can’t stop staring at me in the mirror whenever we’re in the dance studio. and whenever you realize you’re doing it, you get flustered and instantly start talking to yoongi or namjoon.”

this...is not going the way seokjin thought it was going to go. actually, seokjin has no fucking clue where jimin’s planning on going with this, and unbelievably, the uncertainty is even more frightening than whatever else seokjin had expected.

jimin’s voice startles him out of his thoughts. “it started to piss me off,” jimin says, “you obviously liked me. why were you trying so hard to hide it? you looked like you were hurting so badly when you thought i wasn’t looking. why didn’t you just say something, hyung.” his voice drops to just barely above a whisper. seokjin has to strain to hear it.

“i would give you anything, if only you just asked me for it.”

involuntarily, seokjin lets out a soft whimper.

instantly, jimin knocks at the door again. “hyung,” he says urgently, “are you okay? are you crying, please don’t cry.” the door handle jiggles as he tries to push it open. “will you let me in?”

seokjin closes his eyes. he sighs, long and slow, taking each passing second to gather every inch of strength he can possibly muster up. he stands, slowly and deliberately, then opens the door just a crack so he can peek out. “i’m not crying,” he says defensively, locking gazes with jimin just so the other boy can see that his eyes are dry. “i wouldn’t cry over something like this.”

relief flashes across jimin’s face. “can i come in,” he asks.

seokjin considers it for a second, then says, “no.”

jimin looks like he might just try to push his way in, then decides against it. “why not,” he asks instead.

“i don’t feel like it,” seokjin shrugs imperiously, with a confidence he doesn’t really feel. his throat still feels tight, and there’s still a eighty percent chance he’s going to throw up all over jimin, but he powers through it.

“can i keep talking,” jimin asks, his eyebrows raised.

“...you may.”

jimin steps forward, lining himself up with the sliver of space that seokjin is still peering through. he’s looking up at seokjin, his nose so close to seokjin’s lips that if seokjin leaned over a few inches, he could kiss it. “i wanted you to be honest with me. i wanted to hear it directly from you. but you never said anything.”

without even noticing it, seokjin’s let the door float open a little further. not one to ignore an advantage, jimin advances into seokjin’s space.

“what about yesterday,” seokjin stumbles over his words. “what was that about?”

“ah,” jimin says with a touch of embarrassment, “that was…me being immature, i guess. you hadn’t been paying attention to me, and you were sticking to jungkook like you were glued to him. i wanted you to focus on me, and,” he inhales before continuing gently, “i wanted to hear you beg.

what.

seokjin thinks he must have misheard. “excuse me,” he blinks, “you wanted me to what.

“yeah, i know. that’s why i came to your room last night. taehyung told me to come apologize for making you uncomfortable. that’s when i heard...” somehow, jimin’s made his way all the way inside seokjin’s room already. one small hand drifts upward, like he can’t control it, until his thumb finds its way to hover just above seokjin’s lower lip. “you sounded so good, so pretty when you said my name like that,” he says breathlessly.

like a magnet, seokjin draws closer to the other boy, his lips touching the skin of jimin’s fingers. without taking his eyes from seokjin’s, jimin strokes his thumb over seokjin’s lips before pushing down firmly. “hyung,” he whispers, and seokjin feels like his bones are about to vibrate out of his skin.

“open your mouth.”

it’s an automatic response. without even thinking about it, seokjin’s lips drop open, waiting for jimin to make his next move.

the air shifts around them, so palpable he can feel the crush of its weight bearing down against his shoulders.

a familiar predator makes its way into jimin’s body. they’re all the way into seokjin’s bedroom now. seokjin hears the door close followed by the click of a lock sliding into place. jimin smiles, teeth showing, and murmurs, “good boy.”

he pushes his thumb into seokjin’s mouth, gripping seokjin’s chin with his other fingers. his nails dig crescent-moons into the skin of seokjin’s jaw, before he jerks seokjin’s face down to his. dragging his teeth up the curve of seokjin’s throat, he blows tenderly high on his throat before he bites down.

seokjin gasps. in his mind’s eye, he can already see the dark red blossoming against his skin, leaving a bruise for tomorrow.

“jin,” jimin tilts seokjin’s head until they’re staring at each other, not even a whisper apart. “tell me what do you want me to do to you.”

when seokjin speaks, his voice is hoarse. “kiss me,” he says.

deftly, jimin flips him around and pushes his back against the door, nudging his leg in between seokjin’s thighs. his lips and tongue come in to replace his fingers, invading seokjin’s senses. seokjin drags his fingers through jimin’s hair, pulling the boy closer to him by the strands. heat pools in the pit of seokjin’s stomach as they devour each other. his blood pulses through his veins, a tempest he can’t bring himself to control.

they finally draw apart for air. jimin’s hands land on seokjin’s hips like they belong there. slowly, deliberately, seokjin disentangles his arms from around jimin’s shoulders and reaches down to bring one of jimin’s hands to his mouth again. he licks a stripe from the base of his index finger to the tip of the nail, then wraps his lips around it and sucks.

“fuck,” jimin chants, like a prayer. “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

seokjin takes another finger into his mouth. he knows his ears are burning up, he’s so embarrassed by his own actions he can barely keep looking jimin in the eyes. but, whenever he tries to glance away, the steel in jimin’s gaze traps him and holds him in place.

“seokjin,” the younger boy says, strained. “i’m going to ruin you.

before he can think better of it, seokjin cocks his head to one side and bats his eyelashes. “ruin me,” he says around jimin’s fingers, “please.”

the sound jimin makes is suspiciously close to a whimper. in what feels like less than a moment, he’s maneuvered seokjin flat onto his bed. he swings one leg over seokjin’s body and settles down on his thighs.

“next time,” he begins, slipping his hand underneath the hem of seokjin’s shirt, his touch sending shivers all across seokjin’s bare skin. “i’m going to take my time with you. i’ll open you up for me so slowly, first with my fingers, then with my tongue.” he pinches seokjin’s nipple and twists it roughly. when seokjin winces, he looks satisfied. “then, right when you’re about to come, i’ll stop, and start all over again, and i’ll keep going until you can’t help yourself from sobbing.”

seokjin whines and jerks his hips, seeking any sort of friction to grind up against. jimin clicks his tongue at him and plants his hand over seokjin’s stomach to keep him in place. “you rarely ever cry, hyung. so i like it even more when you do,” he continues.

when seokjin doesn’t seem like he’s going to move, jimin trails his hand downward to fiddle with the waistband of seokjin’s sweatpants, but doesn’t go any further. seokjin squirms. “jimin,” he says, sounding petulant even to his own ears. “touch me.”

jimin raises his eyebrows mockingly. “your wish is my command,” he says.

seokjin smacks him against the side, but it’s weak.

jimin stretches seokjin’s waistband and bends over to peek inside. “oh, what’s this? seokjinnie isn’t wearing any underwear today?” he squeezes seokjin’s dick through the fabric. “looks like you were just waiting for me to get my hands on you, weren’t you?”

“don’t call me seokjinnie,” seokjin says, covering his flaming face with his hands. “and don’t be fucking corny. you sound like bad porn.”

pouting, jimin bats seokjin’s hands away from your face. “don’t do that, i want to see your face when i suck your dick. and you’re really going to pretend you don’t like it?” he strokes seokjin through the fabric of his sweatpants, cutting off whatever retort seokjin was about to make. “that’s what i thought,” jimin smirks triumphantly.

he peels seokjin’s pants down, tossing them carelessly to the ground, and moves back in between’s seokjin’s legs. then, without another word, seokjin’s dick is engulfed in wet heat. pleasure sweeps over seokjin’s body. jimin suckles along the length of it, licking up from the base to the tip. jimin watches seokjin writhe above him with dark eyes. “hey,” he says, pulling back. “hold yourself open for me.” he spreads seokjin’s thighs apart and folds them up against seokjin’s chest. seokjin obeys, hands still shaky.

click. seokjin pauses at the sound of a bottle cap flipping open. there’s no way jimin could have taken his without him noticing, so that means…

“wait, have you just been carrying lube in your pocket this whole time?” he gapes down at jimin. “were you really that optimist—ah!

he is very rudely interrupted by the press of jimin’s slick fingers against his entrance. “seokjin,” jimin smiles, beatific, “shut up. the only thing i want to hear from you right now is you crying out my name.”

“jimin,” seokjin cries obediently, “jimin.”

jimin crooks his fingers inside seokjin, grazing something that sends seokjin slamming his head back onto his sheets with a desperate keen. “one day, i should make you do this on your own so i can watch,” jimin muses conversationally, like he hasn’t got three fingers up seokjin’s ass. he caresses the edge of seokjin’s rim with his thumb, applying just the slightest bit of pressure. “i wonder how many you can take?”

everything feels like an assault on seokjin’s senses. he’s been reduced to a boneless mess, saliva pooling in the corner of his lips, but he’s still holding his legs tightly to his chest like jimin had told him to. “i swear to god, if you don’t get in me now...” he trails off. it should sound threatening, but the effect is rather ruined by the fact that halfway through, seokjin’s words had dissolved into a helpless mewl.

“oh no, seokjin,” jimin shakes his head in disapproval. he slides his fingers out of seokjin, deliberately dragging his nails on the edge of his entrance. seokjin trembles. jimin giggles and leans over seokjin to drop a tender kiss onto the tip of his nose. “if you want something, you’re going to have to ask nicely.”

well.

it’s not like seokjin didn’t know that was coming.

it’s a struggle to not glance away and keep his gaze trained on jimin’s face, just a flutter away from his own. he hooks his legs around jimin’s waist, savouring the weight of the smaller boy’s body on top of his own. the shift of cloth against his skin is what alerts him to the fact that somehow, in what has to be an almost criminal act, jimin is still fully clothed. seokjin tugs on the collar of jimin’s shirt.

he bites his lip, swiping his tongue over the pain nervously to soothe it. jimin tracks the movement with his eyes like a lynx. seokjin looks up at him from underneath his eyelashes and says, “please, jimin, take this off and fuck me.”

jimin actually rips his shirt trying to get it off. if seokjin wasn’t so absolutely wrecked, he’d probably laugh.

wrapping his arms around jimin, seokjin drags his nails down jimin’s back and frantically rolls his hips up against him. he feels the push of jimin’s length against him. the initial sting settles into a dull pulse as jimin enters, and a violent heat overtakes any reason he has left as their bodies connect.

“i’m going to move now,” jimin gasps out. “is that okay?”

seokjin’s not actually sure he has any semblance of control over his body anymore, but he thinks he nods.

jimin sets a rapid pace, alternating between a rough aggression and a languid grace. seokjin loses all sense of time, place, and self. his entire world is condensed into the intensity crackling between their skin. he feels hands running up and down his sides, can feel kisses and bites being peppered across his collarbone.

“seokjin,” jimin’s palm settles on his dick, matching his strokes with every thrust. “come for me,” he says, voice penetrating the haze surrounding seokjin’s mind.

seokjin comes all over jimin’s hand.

as jimin pulls out, his come trickles down the cleft of seokjin’s ass. breath coming in heavy pants, seokjin floats down from his high. “your hand,” he says finally, “it’s dirty.”

“are you going to clean it for me,” jimin teases, his own adrenaline fading away.

and, the thing is, seokjin knows he’s joking. he can see jimin already reaching for a tissue to wipe himself with, but before he can, seokjin grabs his wrist.

demurely, he kisses the base of jimin’s palm and says, “i should, shouldn’t i?”

jimin freezes.

seokjin laps at jimin’s skin, swallowing the taste of the salt of jimin’s skin mixed with his own come. “there,” he says. “all clean.”

jimin clears his throat, and declares, “so, i’m going to fuck you again now. also, i’m totally taking you on a date tomorrow, just so you know.”

 

and so, that’s exactly what he does.

 

  

(in case you were wondering, the date is great. they go to an escape room and end up making out like teenagers in the bathroom.

 

seokjin couldn’t be happier.)