Jungkook isn't jealous, per se. It wouldn't make sense to be. He doesn't like either of his hyungs that way.
Except that he is. Jealous.
But not because he wants either of them to himself. More because they were his best friends in the whole entire world, his best friends even in Bangtan, and finding out something like this — it makes him feel left out.
He knows they don't mean to leave him out — well, they do, but not because they don't love him. He knows they do. But, he supposes, they just love each other in a different way. Jimin and Taehyung have always had a special bond.
That's what it is, really. It's a reminder that Jungkook isn't part of the 'Jimin-and-Taehyung' duo. And it hurts.
But we're skipping ahead.
Here's how it begins.
Jungkook should have knocked. Maybe. But he comes home from practice early one day and the house is empty except for the sound of hushed giggles coming from Taehyung's room, and Jungkook is ultimately just a young boy trying to stave off the always-present feeling of loneliness that threatens daily to consume him.
So he hears Taehyung and Jimin laughing and he thinks, that's something I'm a part of, that's something I can join in. Maknae line forever!
He's wrong. It's not something he can join in.
Jimin lets out a high-pitched shriek when Jungkook throws the door open, toppling off Taehyung and dragging the sheets up to cover himself. Taehyung's eyes widen comically large, and he says, "Jungkookie," in a hushed tone of bewilderment, and suddenly there's a lump on Jungkook's chest making him want to cry.
"I'm so sorry!" he screeches, closing his eyes and backing out of the doorway. "I didn't — I'm so sorry!"
“Jungkookie,” Taehyung says again.
But Jungkook doesn’t wait to hear what else Taehyung has to say. He stumbles back out into the hallway and slams the door closed in front of his own face. The silence from the other side of the door thunders. It sounds like rejection.
"We really don’t have to talk about this,” Jungkook says, voice muffled. “Really.”
Jimin and Taehyung had knocked softly on his door — see, knocked, that’s what he should have done — and poked their heads in, and Jungkook had immediately dived into bed and buried his face in his pillow. Ostrich with its head in the sand. Jungkook with his head in his pillow. Everyone coping exceedingly well with things.
“Jungkookie.” This time it’s Jimin saying his name. He feels the bed sink slightly as Jimin sits down. He smells clean, faintly soapy, like he’s just had a shower. Jungkook wonders idly if he and Taehyung had showered together. “Please, we just want to make sure you’re okay.”
It’s been three days since Jungkook walked in on them having sex, following which unfortunate event Jungkook had bolted out of the dorms and proceeded to not return home until he had Seokjin and Hoseok in tow. Jimin had given him a pained look, which Jungkook ignored, in favour of making sure to never let either him or Taehyung catch him alone.
Until now. They’d made up some clearly phony story about having to be out all day, and Jungkook had let his guard down, and now his two favourite hyungs who are apparently each other’s favourite too are in his room, staring him down. He can feel their eyes on him, even though he’s not looking at them.
“I’m fine,” Jungkook says hotly. “Please can we not talk about this?”
Taehyung makes a strangled, scoffing noise. “You’re obviously not fine,” he says, voice a little sharper than Jungkook’s used to. There’s a shuffling noise, and then the sound of a smack that Jungkook thinks is Jimin hitting Taehyung. When Taehyung speaks again, it’s a little gentler. “Please, tell us what’s wrong.”
Jimin’s tugs the blankets down experimentally, and Jungkook lets him. He peeks out over the top of the covers. Taehyung’s standing over the bed, hands on his hips. Jimin has his legs curled up beneath him on the bed. His hair is a mess, sticking up every which way, like he’s been running his hands through it.
“Jungkookie,” Jimin says, “we’re sorry we didn’t tell you.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Jungkook mumbles, even though his brain is screaming that yes they do! Because that’s what the three of them do, they tell each other everything. Except maybe that’s not how things worked, and he just hasn’t realised it yet.
Taehyung sighs, and sits down on the bed next to Jimin, the two of them surrounding Jungkook like they’re protecting him. Maybe they are. He cards his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, just the way he knows Jungkook likes it.
“We didn’t mean to keep this a secret from you,” Taehyung says. “It’s just that — it’s not like, anything. We’re not dating, or whatever. It’s just fun.”
Jungkook pulls the covers down slightly and hooks his chin over it. “I know,” he says, even though he didn’t know. It would be fine if Jimin and Taehyung were dating, of course, but somehow — it’s a little bit more fine that they’re not. He doesn’t want to think about what that means. So he just pouts up at them, and says, “I’m not angry. I just — I felt left out.”
There’s a pause. Jungkook’s words click in his own mind, and his eyes widen. “No, wait, I didn’t mean—”
Taehyung smirks. “If you wanted to join in, all you had to do was ask, Jungkookie.”
“No, I don’t — wait, what?”
Jimin giggles prettily and scoots back up the bed so he’s sitting with his back against the wall. His legs stretch out across the bed, and he wiggles his toes. “It’s not like we haven’t talked about it before.”
And that’s — okay. What? Jungkook sits up, propping himself up on his hands. “Excuse me?”
“We just didn’t think you’d be interested,” Taehyung says. Jungkook’s suddenly hyper-aware of Taehyung’s fingers in his hair, raking delicately across his scalp. His skin tingles. He wonders if Taehyung knows what he’s doing to him. Wonders if Taehyung’s doing it on purpose.
Jimin reaches out, fingers dancing along the skin on the back of Jungkook’s hand. Trailing up along his arm. “We talk about you, sometimes, you know — during,” he says, and his voice is not so much deep as it is — mellow. Rich and warm and full of something Jungkook can’t identify. “We just couldn’t work up the courage to ask you.”
Ask me what? That’s what Jungkook wants to say. Even though he already knows what.
He also knows what his answer would be, he thinks.
Jimin eyes Jungkook carefully. “Are we reading this right?” he asks. “We can leave, if you’d like.”
Taehyung doesn’t look at all like he wants to leave, but he drops his hand from Jungkook’s hair. Jungkook wants to tell him not to stop, to keep touching him like he’s made of glass, but his words fizzle to dust in his mouth. His throat feels inexpressibly scratchy.
“Don’t — don’t leave,” Jungkook manages to mumble out feebly. His brain feels like it’s going to short-circuit. “I don’t — I don’t know—”
“Shh,” Taehyung whispers, smiling at him, and then he’s leaning in a little closer, one hand sliding onto Jungkook’s knee, and Jungkook’s breath hitches, because holy shit, this is really happening, and Jungkook can’t tell if he’s dizzy with panic or desire. Maybe both. Probably both.
Taehyung pauses, just a breath away from Jungkook. He’s so impossibly handsome, all big eyes and angular smile and soft brown hair tousled against his forehead. Jungkook would be lying if he said he’s never thought about this before. Fuck, he’s thought about all of his hyungs before, between playful wrestling in the living room and shirts sticking to sweaty torsos during dance practice — but he’s thought about Taehyung and Jimin the most. And now, they’re here, and they want him, and Jungkook thinks he might be dreaming.
Except that Taehyung still isn’t kissing him, and why the fuck isn’t Taehyung kissing him?
“Jungkookie,” he says, hesitating. “I just want to make sure—”
Because even in this position, even despite everything, Taehyung still just wants Jungkook to be okay, and the thought makes Jungkook’s chest swell with so much affection that he thinks, fuck it. And so he slips his hand around the back of Taehyung’s neck, and tips forward to press their lips together.
There’s a briefest, most imperceptible sliver of time, in which Taehyung freezes in surprise, and Jungkook thinks he’s made a terrible mistake. But then Taehyung’s moving his lips against his own, and smiling into the kiss, and resting both of his hands on Jungkook’s hips, and Jungkook almost groans audibly with relief. Or maybe he does groan audibly, because Taehyung’s grip on him is tightening, and then his tongue is darting out to lick against Jungkook’s lips, and Jungkook feels like his muscles are turning to jelly.
He’s faintly aware of another pair of hands on him, Jimin shuffling closer and rubbing slow, soothing circles into his back. Jimin’s thumb brushes against the neckline of his shirt, slides against the exposed skin at the back of his neck. Jungkook shivers.
Taehyung pulls away slightly. “Jungkookie,” he whispers, and there’s awe in his voice, Jungkook thinks. It mirrors how Jungkook feels. He can barely believe this is happening.
Jimin shifts beside him, delicate fingers tipping against Jungkook’s chin to turn his head. Jungkook closes his eyes and leans into Jimin, open-mouthed and overflowing with love. Jimin tastes different to how Taehyung tasted. He’s sweet where Taehyung was spicy, and his lips are so plump and soft that Jungkook feels a sudden primal urge to sink his teeth into them. He brings one hand to cup Jimin’s jawline, and nips experimentally at Jimin’s lower lip. The breathless moan that this draws out of Jimin shoots straight to Jungkook’s groin.
“Oh my god, fuck,” Jungkook hisses, taking in a sharp inhale of breath. Jimin uses this opportunity to dip his head down, sucking eagerly at the soft skin where Jungkook’s neck meets his collarbone. Jungkook’s fingers are in Jimin’s hair — when did they get there? — and he curls them into a fist. He has a split second to feel guilty because he’s pulling on Jimin’s hair, before Jimin lets out yet another pitchy moan that reveals just how much he likes it.
“Don’t worry about hurting him,” Taehyung whispers in Jungkook’s ear, and his voice is so low and exactly the way he sounds on his solo songs and exactly the way that Jungkook’s jerked off to imagining. He tips his head back onto Taehyung’s shoulder as Jimin drags his teeth along Jungkook’s skin. “Jiminie can take it.”
Jungkook can’t form any words, so he just twists towards Taehyung, hoping that his meaning is clear. And it evidently is, because Taehyung’s leaning down to kiss him, hot and wet and sloppy because the angle is all wrong, but somehow everything is still so, so right.
Then a hand palms against his dick where it’s pushing against the fabric of his sweatpants, and the sensation is so fucking long-awaited and yet so insufficient that Jungkook cries out in frustration and bucks his hips involuntarily. He feels Taehyung smirking into their kiss, and then the hand is wrapping around his dick, still through his clothes, and Jungkook realises that Taehyung is teasing him.
“Tae,” he croaks out brokenly, “Tae, please.”
Jimin, who’s somehow crawled into his lap, leans back and Jungkook thinks he’s observing the two of them. “You look so good, Kookie,” he says. Jungkook tears away from Taehyung’s kiss to look at Jimin. There’s a vivid pink flush suffusing his cheeks, and disappearing down his neck into the collar of his t-shirt. Taehyung bites down aggressively into Jungkook’s neck, before sucking hard at the abused skin. He flicks his wrist roughly, and Jungkook whimpers.
“Hyung,” Jungkook says. His voice doesn’t sound like his own. He reaches out for Jimin, not quite sure what he wants or what he’s doing. His hands tugs at the hem of Jimin’s shirt in frustration. “Take this off, take this off.”
Smiling down at him, Jimin complies. Jungkook groans at Jimin’s beautiful, toned torso comes into view. The dark ink of his tattoo shines like a beacon against his pale skin. Jungkook thumbs at it, feeling the movement of Jimin’s ribs under his skin as he chucks his shirt aside.
“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook exhales. After all these years, he’s still star-struck by Jimin’s beauty. Jimin beams at him indulgently, and Jungkook wants to make him feel good, wants to be a good dongsaeng to him, wants to make sure Jimin knows just how special and precious and irreplaceable he is.
So he tugs Jimin forward by the waistband of his jeans, crashes their lips together. Jimin wastes no time sliding his tongue into Jungkook’s mouth, sweet as honey and even more delicious. Jungkook fumbles with the button of Jimin’s jeans, gets it open and unzipped just enough to slip his hand it and palm against Jimin’s dick through his boxers. He wants to do a good job, wants Jimin to see stars, but it’s hard to focus, though, because Taehyung’s pushing his sweatpants down and suddenly there’s a hand, large and warm and slightly calloused, wrapped around his own dick, nothing between them.
“Fuck,” Jungkook curses. His hips buck into Taehyung’s hand, and then Taehyung’s thumbing at his slit, which is leaking precome and it should be embarrassing but it’s not, not even a little bit. His hands drop to the bed and fist in the sheets. His eyes are squeezed shut, but he’s faintly aware of Jimin and Taehyung shifting around him, because suddenly Taehyung’s moving away from him and, without him to lean on, Jungkook’s collapsing backwards into the bed.
“You look so pretty, Kookie,” Taehyung’s murmuring, and then suddenly his hand leaves Jungkook’s dick, and Jungkook’s eyes fly open in panic. He doesn’t even have time to make a sound, though, because Taehyung’s tugging Jungkook’s sweatpants and boxers down in one go, and then Jimin’s leaning down and wrapping his lips — soft, plump lips — around the head of Jungkook’s aching cock.
Jungkook’s received blowjobs before, and even given one or two, but nothing could have ever prepared him for this. For someone so small and delicate, Jimin takes Jungkook — and Jungkook is by no means small — into his mouth with ease. His tongue swirls around the head, then presses along the underside of the shaft as he bobs his head up and down slowly, teasingly. Jungkook lets out a broken whimper that doesn’t even sound like him.
“He’s good, isn’t he?” Taehyung murmurs. He’s sitting somewhere by Jungkook’s head, fingers raking affectionately through his hair. Which is nice and all, but Jungkook wants more.
“Hyung,” he chokes out. Slips his fingers into the waistband of Taehyung;’s boxers. Both he and Jimin are just in their boxers, he realises. When did that happen? Doesn’t matter. He starts to tug Taehyung’s boxers down. “Hyung, can I—”
Taehyung’s eyes widen. “You don’t have to — I mean, I’m happy to just watch for a bit—”
Jungkook whines. Jimin hollows his cheeks and drags his lips slowly back up Jungkook’s dick, and fuck, the sensation is so much Jungkook can barely hold himself together. He wraps his fingers around Taehyung’s dick as best he can with his boxers still sort of in the way. “Hyung, please.”
Taehyung inhales sharply, and Jungkook gives his dick a few slow tugs as Taehyung quickly sheds his boxers. But if Taehyung thinks Jungkook just wants to jerk him off, he’s sorely mistaken. Jungkook twists uncomfortably to lap at Taehyung’s dick. He’s a little bit too far away.
“Hyung,” Jungkook complains, “come closer.”
Jimin pulls off Jungkook with a wet ‘pop’. “Tae, for god’s sake, let the boy suck your cock.”
Taehyung scrunches up his face. “Shut up, Jimin,” he scolds, but it’s without heat. He shuffles closer, and Jungkook tips his head to the side so he can slide his lips down Taehyung’s dick. Jimin hums contentedly and goes back to sucking Jungkook off.
Jungkook’s always sort of known that Taehyung has a big dick, but to have it in his mouth is another thing. Maybe it’s the angle as well, but Jungkook can’t quite fit Taehyung fully into his mouth. So he makes up for the lack of deep-throating with boundless enthusiasm, sucking hard and undulating his tongue along Taehyung’s length and wrapping one hand around the base of Taehyung’s dick until Taehyung’s breathing becomes shaky.
That is, until Jungkook loses all focus when Jimin takes a breath, and then sinks all the way down to the base of Jungkook’s dick. He moans brokenly around Taehyung’s cock, which must do something for Taehyung, because he’s fisting his hands in Jungkook’s hair — Jungkook can see why Jimin likes it so much — and groaning out an almost inaudible series of curse words. Jungkook can feel the muscles of Jimin’s throat squeezing around him, and somewhere in the back of his mind he’s worried about choking Jimin, but most of him is just flooding with desire hot enough to scald.
“Jimin,” he wheezes out, pulling off Taehyung’s dick. “Jimin, fuck, oh my god.”
Beaming proudly, Jimin sits back up on his heels and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do you want to fuck me?” he asks, and all of Jungkook’s nerves spin into overdrive.
“What,” he says, first, and then, “fuck, yes.” And then Jimin’s pulling his boxers down and Taehyung’s leaning in to kiss him, one hand jerking Jimin off, and they look so good together than Jungkook feels dizzy with want.
“Get up, big boy, I want you to fuck me into the mattress until the bed breaks,” Jimin says, and Jungkook doesn’t know what to say to this Jimin, the one who’s all sharp edges and raw sexual confidence and calling him names like ‘big boy’. So he just does what he’s told, pulling his shirt off and pointing out where he keeps his lube and condoms when asked, and lets Taehyung get on his knees in front of him and Jimin lies back on the bed and fingers himself.
Taehyung sucks dick differently to Jimin, Jungkook thinks, with the small, quickly malfunctioning part of his brain that can still think. Jimin’s mouth on his dick felt like Jimin saying, ‘look how good I can be for you’. Taehyung’s, on the other hand, feels like Taehyung saying, ‘look how good you can be for me’. Jungkook groans as he realises that, even though Taehyung’s the one on his knees, Jungkook’s the one who’s lost all control. Taehyung seems to be smirking as he slowly, languidly slides his lips up and down Jungkook’s cock.
Jimin, meanwhile, has lubed his fingers up, is sliding first one, then quickly two, into himself. He winks at Jungkook. “I like this a little too much, to be honest,” he says.
Taehyung pulls off Jungkook’s dick. “That’s true,” he says, with the air of someone complaining about their aggravating husband, “sometimes he just keeps fingering himself when we’re meant to be fucking.”
“Uh,” Jungkook says. “That’s okay.”
Jimin grins at Jungkook. “Not today, though,” he purrs. “Today I want you to fuck me. Right now.”
“Now?” Jungkook blinks. “Already?”
Taehyung gets up, tugs Jungkook over towards Jimin by the wrist. “I told you, Jimin can take it,” he says. “He likes it a little rough.”
“Don’t spill all my secrets,” Jimin says, kicking out at Taehyung with one leg. Then he drags Jungkook in for a kiss, this one messy and hungry with desire. Jungkook leans his forehead against Jimin’s. He can see the love in his eyes. “Hey,” Jimin whispers. His eyes sparkle.
“Hey,” Jungkook whispers back, and he realises something that he thinks he already knew, right from the start — that everything will be okay.
He pulls away to get a condom, but Taehyung’s already right next to him, handing him an unwrapped condom like some sort of comedic sex butler. Jungkook tries not to think about the humour of the situation for now — they can laugh about it later — because right now he just really, really wants to fuck Jimin.
So he lines himself up, pushes in slowly. Despite everything that’s been said about how Jimin can take it, Jungkook doesn’t ever want to hurt Jimin. So he takes it slow at first. Not to mention the fact that Jimin is so impossibly tight and hot around him that Jungkook thinks he might explode if he doesn’t give himself a moment to breathe. When he bottoms out inside Jimin, he groans softly and topples forward, their bare chests — already sticky with sweat — pressing together.
“Kookie,” Jimin exhales, “you feel so good.”
Jungkook groans again. “You feel good too, Jiminie. So good.”
Jimin’s breathing evens out, and then he rocks his hips up into Jungkook, and Jungkook starts to move. Slowly, at first, and then a little faster. He props himself up on his hands so he can look at Jimin, flushed pink and whimpering beneath him, hair haloed around his head, the most breath-taking sight he’s ever laid eyes on.
Taehyung comes to lie beside them, gaze outpouring with fondness. He wraps his hand around Jimin’s dick, jerks him off slowly. Jungkook watches the movement of his hand, transfixed by the way the head of Jimin’s dick pokes out of Taehyung’s fist, looking so pink and glistening with precome. Taehyung’s moving out of rhythm with Jungkook’s thrusts. He’s doing it intentionally, Jungkook thinks, from the way he’s looking at Jimin with a sly smile curling his lips. Jimin, for his part, has his hand on Taehyung’s dick as well, but with his head thrown back and Jungkook fucking into him ever-faster, he’s not really able to do much more than tug roughly at Taehyung’s dick in a sort of staccato rhythm.
“God, you feels so good,” Jimin groans, and Jungkook’s never considered this before, but he thinks it would be so wonderful to be fucked. To feel so full and so vulnerable in the arms of someone you trust. He looks up from Jimin, meets Taehyung’s gaze. Taehyung, who loves harder than anyone he knows, who touches Jungkook like he’s precious and looks at him like he would hang the moon just to see him smile.
“Hyung,” Jungkook says, voice coming out ragged, “can you fuck me?”
Taehyung freezes. “Right now?”
Jungkook nods. His thrusts slow slightly. He doesn’t want to come yet. “Yeah,” he says, “while I fuck Jiminie.”
“Have you ever done that before?” Jimin asks, hands on his hips to still him. His eyes are wide with concern.
“What, getting fucked while I fuck someone else? No.”
Jimin raises an eyebrow. “Or, just — getting fucked at all.”
Jungkook wrinkles up his nose. “Nope,” he says. “But I want to try.”
“Not for our sake, though?” Taehyung looks worried, even though he has no need to be.
“No,” Jungkook says firmly, “not for your sake. It just—” He trails off, looks down at Jimin. He’s absolutely glowing, eyes glassy and skin flushed. Jungkook smiles shyly, as if he wasn’t still buried balls-deep in his best friend. “It looks like it feels good.”
Jimin giggles. “It definitely feels good,” he says. Taehyung nods eagerly, the two of them beaming at Jungkook. Then Jimin pulls Jungkook in for a kiss. “Do you trust us?” he asks, murmuring against Jungkook’s lips.
The answer comes to Jungkook without him even needing to think about it. “Yes,” he says, “yes, of course.”
Taehyung leans in, tilts Jungkook’s head to the side so he can press a soft kiss into his mouth. Their tongues slide against each other lazily. “I’ll take good care of you, Jungkookie,” Taehyung murmurs. “Just trust me, okay? And tell me if you want me to stop.”
Jungkook nods, and then Jimin’s pulling him back for another kiss, mumbling against his lips, “just focus on me, okay? We’ll take it slow, you just focus on me.”
So he does, sliding in and out of Jimin as slowly as he can manage, letting Jimin lavish him with all-consuming, open-mouthed kisses. His breath catches slightly when he feels Taehyung’s finger, cold with lube, pressing against his asshole, but then Jimin’s moaning and twisting beneath him, and Jungkook relaxes into Taehyung’s touch.
It feels a little strange, at first, the feeling of Taehyung’s finger pushing past his rim and sliding up into him. Jungkook can feel his muscles clenching at the intrusion, but it’s not unpleasant. He exhales slowly, and then Jimin’s brushing his thumbs against his nipples, and Jungkook didn’t think that would do much for him but it does. He groans, completely overcome with sensation, hips bucking a little jerkily into Jimin.
Jungkook adjusts quickly to Taehyung’s finger inside him, and it surprises him how quickly and abruptly it goes from being too much to not enough. He whimpers and pushes his ass back into Taehyung, wordlessly begging for more. Taehyung just chuckles, and slowly slides another finger into Jungkook.
“Fuck,” Jungkook chokes out. He’s not even moving inside Jimin, but he can feel Jimin’s muscles clenching around him, and his own muscles clenching around Taehyung’s fingers, and something tightens in his groin, something hot and coiled like a spring. He buries his face in Jimin’s neck. “I’m so close, oh god, fuck.”
“Yeah? Do you want to come?” Jimin rolls his hips upwards against Jungkook. “Tell me if you want to come, baby.”
Jungkook presses his hands into Jimin’s hips, pushing him against the bed. “No — fuck, no,” he groans, “I want Tae to fuck me. Fuck, I gotta — I gotta hold on.”
“Okay, okay — we can do that,” Jimin murmurs softly, and then he’s shifting beneath Jungkook and pulling off his dick. Jungkook whimpers as his orgasm, which had been hovering at his fingertips, crashes out of reach. “Tae, Tae,” Jimin says, wriggling out from under Jungkook, “take it slow, Kookie doesn’t want to come yet.”
“Oh, baby boy,” Taehyung says. His fingers go still inside Jungkook, but he doesn’t remove them. His free hand caresses Jungkook’s ass, and he presses a kiss against the curve of his right cheek. “You’re such a precious baby boy, our precious baby boy.”
Jungkook whines feebly, pushing his hips backwards into Taehyung. “Please,” he begs, voice coming out all reedy and thin, “hyung, please.”
Taehyung just chuckles and pushes a third finger into Jungkook, but he’s still not moving them enough and Jungkook cries out brokenly. Jimin gets on his knees in front of him and cups his cheek with one hand. “You’re doing so well, baby,” he murmurs soothingly. “You look so pretty, all fucked open on Tae-Tae’s fingers.”
“Let me — I wanna — hyung—” Jungkook can’t form a full sentence, can barely form individual words, but in between the words he does manage to get out and his desperate reaching for Jimin’s dick, it seems like Jimin gets what he wants. Jungkook parts his lips and slides as far as he can down Jimin’s dick, tongue swirling at the head as he does so. Jimin’s not as big at Taehyung, and so Jungkook can almost take all of him into his mouth. The head of his dick prods against the back of his throat. Jungkook tries relaxing his throat muscles and slides down a little deeper.
“Fuck, Kookie’s good at this too,” Jimin hisses out, and Jungkook feels himself glow with pride.
“He’s such a good boy,” Taehyung agrees. He’s starting to move his fingers now, a little experimentally, like he’s testing something out. Or looking for something. Jungkook isn’t sure what, until Taehyung finds it. Rubs against that spot inside of him that makes something explode in his core.
Jungkook pops off Jimin’s dick and almost screams with pleasure. “Holy shit,” he cries out. His breaths are coming hot and heavy as Taehyung’s fingers retreat from that spot inside him, and then push forward to rub against it again.
“I think you found it, Tae,” Jimin says, chuckling lowly. Jungkook just whimpers and tries to go back to sucking Jimin’s dick, even though his vision is blurry from all the stars popping off behind his eyelids.
Taehyung slips his fingers out of Jungkook, and Jungkook wants to complain, but then Taehyung’s asking, “Are you ready, Jungkookie?” And yes, Jungkook doesn’t think he’s ever been more ready for anything in his life. He mumbles indecipherably around Jimin’s dick.
When he feels the head of Taehyung’s dick pressing against his asshole, Jungkook’s first thought is, fuck, that’s too big. Then it pushes just past the rim, and Jungkook becomes convinced he’s going to break apart on Taehyung’s dick.
“Just breathe, Jungkookie,” Taehyung murmurs, as if sensing Jungkook’s nervousness. “Just breathe.”
So Jungkook tries to comply, focusing on his breathing and also on dragging his tongue along Jimin’s dick in just the right way to make him inhale sharply through his teeth. Then Taehyung’s reaching around him, hand coming to wrap around his dick, pulling the condom off so they’re skin to skin. The dull pain in Jungkook’s ass gives way to a blinding shot of pleasure. He jerks his hips forwards into Taehyung’s hand, thrusting shallowly. That’s when he realises that every time he pulls his hips back, Taehyung’s sinking a little deeper into him. The combined sensation twists together like a helix inside Jungkook, and he groans with mounting pleasure as he fucks himself forward onto Taehyung’s hand, and then back onto Taehyung’s dick, and then again and again and again.
“You good, Kookie?” Taehyung murmurs, and there’s a shattered sort of quality to his voice. It makes Jungkook’s chest feel full with pride to think that he’s the one who’s making Taehyung sound like that. Taehyung has one hand pumping Jungkook’s dick, the other propping himself up against the bed. It’s a difficult position, and one that means that Taehyung can’t move as quickly or as forcefully as Jungkook’s now realising he’d like.
“I’m fine,” Jungkook says. “You can go faster. Please — go faster.”
Taehyung groans, leaning forward for just a moment to press a kiss against the small of Jungkook’s back. Then he’s releasing Jungkook’s dick to place both hands on his hips, thrusting into Jungkook with slowly increasing speed. His hips slam into Jungkook’s ass roughly. Jungkook arches his back, adjusting until he finds the angle where Taehyung’s dick is rubbing against his prostate every time he bottoms out inside him. Pleasure builds inside Jungkook, the muscles deep in his groin tightening.
“Kookie,” Jimin whispers hoarsely. Jungkook looks up at him, still mouthing at his dick. Jimin looks utterly wrecked. “Can I fuck your face? Gently.”
Jungkook nods, and tips his chin up, trying to find a good angle for Jimin. He’s never been face-fucked before, but then again he’s also never been fucked in the ass before, so why not make today a day of firsts? Besides, these are his hyungs, and he trusts them with his life. He knows they’ll make him feel good.
Jimin lightly places both his hands on either side of Jungkook’s head, gently but firmly holding him in place. Then he moves his hips, slowly, sliding his dick out of Jungkook’s mouth, then in again. Jungkook tries to hold himself still, but with every one of Taehyung’s thrusts, he’s pushed forward onto Jimin’s dick. It’s an absolutely drunken feeling, Jungkook thinks, to feel simultaneously like he’s being used by both his hyungs, but also like he’s being taken care of.
Jimin starts picking up the pace as well, now that it seems like Jungkook’s handling everything okay. His dick knocks against the back of Jungkook’s throat, and Jungkook relaxes his muscles to try and take Jimin as deep as he can. He presses his tongue flat against the underside of Jimin’s dick, and it isn’t long before he feels Jimin’s grip on his head tighten, and Jimin’s thighs start to quiver.
“I’m so close, Kookie, fuck,” Jimin pants out, and he starts to pull away, but Jungkook reaches up with one hand and places it on Jimin’s hip to hold him in place. “Kookie,” Jimin groans, “are you sure?”
Jungkook doesn’t say anything in response — just sinks down, as far as he can go, and clenches his throat muscles around him, bobbing his head ever so slightly to give his tongue room to drag against Jimin’s dick. He feels the moment when Jimin tenses up, and then Jimin’s coming down his throat, hot and sticky and not necessarily sweet but not unpleasant either, and definitely intoxicating.
When Jungkook swallows, and peers up at Jimin, he sees Jimin’s lips parted slightly in shock. He licks his lips and smiles up at his hyung, even as Taehyung continues to thrust into him, hard and fast.
“That was so hot,” Taehyung grunts out. “Fuck, I can’t believe you swallowed. That’s so hot.”
Jimin looks like he’s ready to just lie down as pass out, but he shifts closer to Jungkook, pushes him up onto his knees. Behind him, Taehyung has to adjust, before he continues to thrust upwards into Jungkook. The change in angle means Taehyung’s rubbing against Jungkook’s prostate in a different way, and this time it’s so deep that it’s like Jungkook can almost feel Taehyung in his stomach. He gasps out, voice thick and choked, collapsing forwards against Jimin. He’s pressed between the two of them, propped up by the two of them, helpless without them.
“How do you feel?” Jimin asks, smiling softly at him. “Good?”
“Good,” Jungkook pants out in reply. “Tae, fuck — oh my god, you feel so good.”
Taehyung just groans, and then he’s leaning over Jungkook’s shoulder and dragging Jimin in for a kiss. Jungkook can see their tongues sliding against each others, can hear Taehyung’s huffs of breath as he keeps slamming his hips into Jungkook.
Jimin presses forward into Jungkook, curls his fist around Jungkook’s dick, starts jerking him off without breaking his kiss with Taehyung. Jungkook braces himself with his hands on Jimin’s hips, head tipping forward against his shoulder. Drags his teeth against Jimin’s skin, all the while Taehyung’s fingers dig into his waist, holding him firmly in place as he fucks into him so hard that all Jungkook can see is explosions and blinding white light.
He’s so close, tension coiling from his groin to his gut and down through his legs, and then Taehyung’s pulling away from Jimin to suck aggressively at the skin along the side of Jungkook’s neck, and Jimin’s twisting his hand on Jungkook’s cock and thumbing against his slit, and everything is all at once too much.
“Hyung,” Jungkook groans brokenly, not sure which of them he’s talking to. Probably both. He feels like he’s about to cry, his chest feels so tight and all his muscles are wound up so tense that he thinks he might shatter. Warmth bubbles up from deep inside him, that familiar clenching, except this time he has Taehyung’s cock in his ass and Jimin’s hand on his dick and the two people he loves most in the entire world pressed up against him. His lashes feel wet as he tips his head back against Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’m so close, fuck.”
“You’re doing so well, baby boy,” Jimin murmurs, leaning in to kiss him, even as Jungkook’s shaking and inching towards the crest of his desire.
Taehyung nips at his earlobe, breath hot against him. “Come for us, Kook-ah,” he growls, and then Jimin says his name, soft and sweet, ‘Jungkookie’, and it’s that, in the end, the smoky quality of Taehyung’s voice mixed with the cotton candy airiness of Jimin’s, that pushes Jungkook over the edge.
He jerks his hips into Jimin’s hand, feels his come spurt out against both of their stomachs, and it’s messy and kind of gross, but even clean freak Jungkook can’t bring himself to care. He shudders through his high, Taehyung and Jimin both cradling him in their arms, pressing countless kisses into his skin, murmuring his name over and over again like it’s a prayer.
Taehyung slides out of him, and Jungkook topples into Jimin’s waiting arms. “You don’t have to stop,” he says feebly, even though now that he’s come he thinks he’d prefer not to be so strongly stimulated for a bit. But Taehyung’s not done yet, and Jungkook wants to make him feel good. “What about you?”
“I’m close, don’t you worry,” Taehyung rasps out. “You’re so fucking tight.” He climbs shakily to standing, one foot planted on the ground and the other knee still on the bed. Jimin drops to his knees in front of Taehyung in such a graceful, practiced way, that it makes Jungkook think they’ve done this before.
He collapses, sweaty and sticky, into the sheets, watches as Taehyung jerks himself off while Jimin kneels beneath him, face upturned and mouth open to receive his come. It takes no time at all, before Taehyung is coming, spurting thick white strings of come onto Jimin, grunting as he pumps himself. Jimin closes his eyes as Taehyung comes, stretches his tongue out, lets Taehyung paint his face like a work of art. Jungkook’s just barely come down from his high, but still he feels his dick twitch with interest at the sight. Jimin, on his knees, torso splattered with Jungkook’s come, and face so beautifully decorated with Taehyung’s.
“Fuck, hyung, you look good,” Jungkook breathes out, rapt and in awe.
Taehyung groans, drops back down onto the bed. He leans back on his arms. “He does, doesn’t he?”
Jimin beams with pride, and Jungkook pulls him back onto the bed, kisses him through all of Taehyung’s come. He licks it off Jimin’s lips, feels the way it tastes hot and sticky in his mouth, lets Jimin swirl it into him with his tongue. He can taste both of them at once, and it tastes like heaven.
“Jesus christ.” Taehyung exhales sharply. “You guys look fucking incredible.”
“Mm,” Jimin says. He grins at Taehyung. “Don’t we?”
Taehyung laughs and flops back onto Jungkook’s bed. “Also kind of gross,” he says. It’s not a lie. They’re all covered in sweat and come, although some more so than others. And Jungkook is going to have to wash his sheets, but that’s fine.
He stands up on weak legs, stretches his arms overhead. He doesn’t miss the way Jimin and Taehyung both eye him, watching as the muscles of his stomach shift beneath his skin. There’s a little tingle in his groin that tells him he’d probably be able to go again, in a few minutes.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Jungkook says, emphasising each word pointedly. He cocks his head at his hyungs.
Jimin gasps, looking affronted. “Without us?”
Taehyung clicks his tongue. “You’re not doing anything without us, ever again,” he teases, getting to his feet and pressing one hand to Jungkook’s cheek so he can pull him close for a kiss. Jimin bounds over to join them, alternating kisses on Jungkook’s cheek and then Taehyung’s. Jungkook wraps them both up in his arms, and the three of them stumble into the shower, a mess of teeth and tongues and arms and lips. A mess of attraction and desire and fondness and, most of all, love.