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when we all fall asleep (where do we go?)

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It’s raining. Jimin’s eyes follow the small droplets of water crashing against the window. There’s a vague memory of his grandmother telling him a story about heaven, hell and how the rain was God’s tears. So Jimin stares, wondering if those are happy or sad tears, focusing solely on its loud sound echoing outside. 


“Jimin,” he hears someone say, but it’s too far, so out of reach that Jimin isn’t sure he’s even heard his name at all. It wouldn’t be the first time. 


The gentle tap on his knee tells him otherwise, breaking him out of his reverie, bringing Jimin back to this. Always this.


“Jimin, did you hear me?” Dr. Kim asks. 


Jimin blinks once, twice, turning his head to look at Dr. Kim. “I’m sorry. What did you say?” 


“I asked you about your episodes.” 


“Ah,” Jimin hums. Dr. Kim’s office is warm with its yellow walls and happy paintings. Jimin wishes he knew the feeling, but a guy could definitely dream. If only Jimin could sleep, too. He clicks his tongue before replying. “Don’t you know that already? I thought Dr. Min had filled you in on my case.” 


Dr. Kim nods. “He did, yes. But he also told me the treatment has been inefficient so far. Are you still taking your medication?” 


“Yep,” Jimin purposely drags the p. “Every day.” 


His new psychiatrist writes something down, pushing his glasses up his nose. Jimin can’t help but notice how young he seems to be, not a day past 35 probably. 


“And how do you feel about them?” 


“About what?” Jimin furrows his brows, slightly confused. 


Dr. Kim lets out a barely-there laugh. “Your meds, Jimin.” 


“You tell me,” Jimin shrugs, not a single hint of amusement in his voice. “Would I be here if they worked?” 


Jimin doesn’t want to sound rude. He really doesn’t. But he’s been sleep-deprived for way too long to think before he’s speaking and he sure has had enough of smartasses doctors downplaying his condition. More than anything, Jimin is tired and asking him how he feels about the medication that doesn’t fucking work isn’t the easiest way to win him over. 


“Look, Jimin,” setting his notebook aside, Dr. Kim leans closer, sitting by the edge of his chair. “I can’t say I know what you’ve been through, but I am here to help you. Whatever Dr. Min wrote in his notes doesn’t matter to me, because those are his words and his perception on your case. For me to be able to help you, you need to let me help you. Will you do that?” 


Jimin gulps, leg anxiously boucing. He wants to leave, though he desperately wants to stay. The rain hasn’t stopped and considering the dark grey clouds covering the sky, it won’t stop any time soon. God is crying and Jimin feels like crying too. 


“Okay,” Jimin says with a trembling voice, curling into himself on Dr. Kim’s couch. 


“Okay, then,” Dr. Kim cocks his head to the side, agreeing. He takes the notebook back to his lap and stares deep into Jimin’s eyes. “Tell me how it started.” 


With a deep breath, Jimin begins. 


The first time it happened Jimin was five and his parents thought he had been faking it to get attention. When the third time happened, Jimin screamed so loud their neighbors had called the police on them and Jimin had cried for hours, apologizing for something he couldn’t control. 


It continued for the rest of the week. Jimin would open his eyes to complete darkness, body unable to move, the feel of his chest being crushed, battling to breathe. Though the sensation was terrifying, that wasn’t what made Jimin pee his bed every night, nevermind push the tears to rush down his cheeks. The monster had bright red eyes, hiding in the shadows while whispering Jimin’s name. 


They moved, in a failed attempt to make Jimin forget about the monster. But Jimin would still wake up, limbs frozen, heart in his throat, drowning in crimson. Nightmares came as easily as sleep did, and after a while, it didn’t come at all. Jimin was so scared to sleep, he would stay up all night praying, begging, for the monster to disappear.


When Jimin broke down at school, falling asleep without realizing he did and waking up to the monster beside him, his parents decided it was enough.


Dr. Young was nice, had a beautiful smile that five-year-old Jimin found very comforting. Perhaps that’s why Jimin was so calm when she diagnosed him with a rare case of sleep paralysis. She had the same smile on when she told his mom that hallucinations were pretty normal in those situations and Jimin’s monster surely had to be just it: a hallucination. 


Still, Jimin didn’t sleep. The medication did nothing to ease the fear growing inside of him, nightmares were each time worse and the monster never stopped coming. Lurking in the corners, watching him, calling him. 


Years of despair had taught Jimin to survive. Anyone would consider that as a victory, but surviving isn’t living and Jimin wants to live. 


Dr. Kim clears his throat once Jimin finishes and the silence gets louder in the room. Jimin’s gaze remains fixed at the window, the raindrops falling faster and faster, and it’s almost enough to lulls him to sleep. Almost. 


“Do you know what it’s like having everyone in your life telling you that you’re crazy?” Jimin asks, absentmindedly, legs trembling harder than before. He scratches the back of his head, a cold shiver rushing down his spine. 


“No, I don’t,” Dr. Kim replies, honesty hanging strong in his voice. There’s a slight change in the air and Jimin turns his attention to Dr. Kim. Empathy, compassion, pity. That’s what Jimin sees in the way Dr. Kim twists his lips, gulping slowly. 


“Do you know what it’s like growing up as the freak kid who comes and goes out of hospitals after being committed to a psych yard almost every year? To be so afraid of closing your eyes and doctors assuring you that it’s all in your head, that it’s just your paranoia speaking. I can only sleep when they put me under or when I take so many pills I get on the verge of overdosing. That happened once, I’m sure you’ve read that on your file,” Jimin laughs bitterly, running his fingers through his hair. “It was fun.”


“Are you saying almost dying was fun?” Dr. Kim’s question is filled with concern. 


Jimin smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 


“I’m saying it was the best sleep I’ve ever had.” 




Once his appointment is over, Jimin takes an Uber back to his dorm. The uneasiness hovering over his shoulder is a well-known feeling and Jimin has to turn twice every five minutes to make sure nothing is following them. 


Dr. Kim had finished their session with a simple assignment Jimin had agreed to indulge. From now on, Jimin would keep a diary. According to his psychiatrist, Dr. Kim wanted to try a new approach by having Jimin writing down everything he sees, what he feels so they could work on how to make it easier for Jimin the next time they see each other.


Jimin’s not exactly thrilled with the idea of describing his nightmares on paper, but as long as it shows some kind of progress and makes his life somehow less frightening, then Jimin would gladly oblige.  


He’s been fighting for so long, that Jimin can’t give up now, not when he’s about to start college after months of begging and crying and promising he’ll be okay. A normal kid, that’s all Jimin wishes he could be. 


Their parents were very reluctant thought, especially with moving to another city. But Dr. Min sided with his decision, although his mom had been adamant about keeping him locked up in his room until his episodes were finally over. They didn’t know when or if that would ever happen and Dr. Min strongly advised Jimin’s family to support him on this new experience. It could be Jimin’s way out, it could make it worse. They didn’t know and it was worth to try. 


He’s already been robbed enough of a perfectly healthy life and Jimin wasn’t about to let his monster ruin that for him too. 


With a new round of medications, his family living just 20 minutes away from his dorm and a whole new psychiatrist to take his case, Jimin is here and he’s ready to start. 


Sleep obviously never comes during that night and Jimin blames the anticipation and anxiety. It’s a horror show, really, because his eyes burn the entire time, his head hurts and his body tingles, exhausted to the brick, but Jimin manages. It’s his chance to rewrite the book he’s trapped in, a new beginning where he isn’t the weird crazy kid. 


When the sunlight sneaks into the room from the open curtains, Jimin breathes, relieved. Today is the day and today Jimin is just Jimin. Maybe a strange kid suffering from insomnia, maybe he’s just tired, which explains the dark circles under his eyes. No one needs to know because today is a bright new day and Jimin is excited, so fucking excited he dresses up nicely, checks his hairstyle for a little longer than necessary and gets out with his chest bubbling, a nice feeling sparkling inside. 


First period is not as bad as Jimin thought it would be. His professor is welcoming and he’s already talked to more people than he had in six months. Taehyung, a funny guy whose clothes resemble his grandpa, introduces himself and they sit together until the end, giggling here and there. 


Overwhelmed, Jimin skips class to class. It’s his last one for the day and after taking so much information, Jimin thinks he’s gonna pass out, which may not be such a bad idea. So many faces, names, subjects. Jimin’s over the moon, definitely spacing out when he bumps into something very hard while walking to Mrs. Yoo’s lecture. 


Jimin hears the loud “I’m sorry” that comes out of the stranger’s mouth. Luckily, he hasn’t fallen on his face or dropped his books. 


“Did I hurt you?” The guy says and Jimin looks up. 


The guy’s brows are furrowed and he sounds genuinely concerned. Jimin doesn’t miss it, though he’s too busy staring at him, speechless. Jimin has never seen someone as pretty as the guy standing in front of him. His long hair seems soft to the touch, a little bit curly and messy—nevertheless, soft—and Jimin’s fingers prickle with an irrational need to brush the loose strand covering the guy’s eyes. Eyes which Jimin loses himself into, completely mesmerized with them. 


He smiles and heat spreads through Jimin’s body up to his cheeks, making him blush. Jimin gasps, taken back at his reaction. 


“N-no. It’s, okay. I’m f-fine,” he stutters, the confidence he’s gathered all morning suddenly vanishing. 


“Great!” The guy exclaims enthusiastic, scrunching his nose in the process. Jimin’s heart flutters. “Are you heading to Mrs. Yoo’s class?” 


Jimin has a hard time focusing. The guy’s lips are so pink. 


“Sorry, y-yeah, I am,” he stutters again, pressing his books against his chest. 


“Nice, so am I. Is it your first day too?” 


“Mhm,” Jimin agrees quietly. 


“Cool,” the guy says, pulling his backpack over his shoulder. “I’m Jeongguk, by the way.”


Jeongguk grins and Jimin almost chokes. “I’m Jimin.”


“Pretty name,” Jeongguk says, turning around to continue his way to the lecture hall. Jimin follows, concentrating on not tripping on his own feet. 


“Thanks,” Jimin mumbles. 


“It suits you,” Jeongguk adds. Jimin’s face burns. 


They don’t talk until they reach the door, Jeongguk’s smile widening when Jimin agrees to sit with him. His presence is soothing enough and although Jimin surely feels like his heart is going to jump out of his body through his throat, Jeongguk doesn’t seem to notice. 


They listen in silence Mrs. Yoo talk about Art History in a monotonous way. Jeongguk jokes around, faking a yawn while rolling his eyes. Jimin hides a giggle, but Mrs. Yoo shoots him a nasty glance before returning to the board. Jeongguk quirks his brows, clearly amused. 


To Jimin’s disappointment, Mrs. Yoo tells the class that they will work in pairs for the rest of the semester. How is he supposed to find a partner in such a short notice? 


“So, what do you think?” Jeongguk points out as soon as the class is over. 


Jimin shoves his book into his bag, then says, “About what?”


“Doing the project together,” Jeongguk explains, matter-of-factly.


Jimin’s words get stuck in his mouth, bewildered at the implication of working with Jeongguk during the entire semester. Why is he sweating, anyway? 


“Of course,” he nods, before realizing he had accepted. “I mean, if you’re sure. If you want to, yeah, that’s fine. Okay.” 


A mess, honestly and Jimin sighs. Jeongguk seems unbothered by Jimin’s struggle, his enticing smile still hanging on his pretty pink lips. 


“You’re cute. I like it.” 


He’s left open-mouthed, skin hot, hands sweaty. Jimin feels feverish. Maybe he’s sick or something. 


“Here,” Jeongguk takes his phone from his jeans’ pocket and hands it to Jimin. “Add your number so we can figure things out.” 


Jimin does it with shaky fingers, typing his phone number twice until he’s got it right. What a silly boy, he thinks, can’t even hold a phone properly. 


“There you go,” Jimin gives Jeongguk’s phone back and their hands touch for a little less than a second, but it’s more than enough to make Jimin’s skin burst into flames. 


Jeongguk never stops smiling, brown eyes staring deeply at Jimin as if he wants to say something. He doesn’t, shaking his head. 


“See you later, Jimin,” Jeongguk waves him goodbye, leaving a very breathless Jimin behind. 




On the bedside table, Jimin’s lamp brightens up the room. Jimin always leaves it on, no matter what, during the night. Its light helps Jimin to remember he’s not in danger, that the monster can’t catch him like that. Of course, the monster comes anyway and Jimin sobs until his body is finally free of his paralysis.


Tonight, Jimin’s mind is elsewhere. The lamp doesn’t work as a distraction since Jimin’s full attention is on his phone. Jeongguk’s text pops on his screen every time he opens the app and despite the energy he’s put into writing him back, Jimin keeps deleting whatever he’s written only to start over again. 


Under his sheets, he doesn’t hide his giggles or tries to muffle them by biting his lips. He’s floating, a funny sensation prickling at the bottom of his stomach. Jimin doesn’t know what it is, can’t put a word into it. All he knows is that he likes it, doesn’t ever want to stop feeling like this. 


Allowing himself to relax, Jimin does something he had thought it wasn’t a possibility for him anymore. He dreams. 


Someone laughs. The sound rings velvety in his ears and Jimin recognizes it right away. It’s Jeongguk laughing and laughing, Jimin’s name on his tongue. He’s asking Jimin to reach him, to find him, and Jimin laughs too, running amongst the trees. Jeongguk’s voice gets softer, lower. Fading in the forest. 


“Jeongguk?” Jimin calls. 


The laugh turns darker and it’s closer than before. The hair on the back of his head rises, legs shaking as the realization falls on him. It’s not Jeongguk anymore. 




Jimin wakes up. The lamp is out. No, no, no. His room is dark, his fingers tingle, but he can’t move. Tears form at the corners of his eyes, the feeling of the water running down his cheeks make him uncomfortable. It’s not as bad as the frightening feeling pulling him in, restricting on his bed, unable to breathe right. Jimin screams, though no sound slips from his mouth. 


Then he sees it, the monster. Dark red eyes watching over him, mingling in the shadows, just lurking. It comes and goes as fast as it did, and Jeongguk’s name escapes his lips. 


Jimin has never felt so alone. 




Soon, Jimin is buried under piles of paperwork and assignments. Jimin can't complain since he's the one who asked to be here in the first place. The routine is rough and intense, that much he can say. Being homeschooled for a good part of his childhood and better part of his teenage years didn't exactly prepare him for this, but Jimin is satisfied. 


His nightmares aren't as bad as before and sometimes, and those are the good times, Jimin dreams of long hair and doe eyes. 


Taehyung is what Jimin considers a bit odd, but he's overall sweet and a great friend. Jimin never had friends to compare him with, but Taehyung is kind and warm and makes Jimin laugh easily, so he can only assume this is what having a friend feels like. 


Jeongguk, though, is a mystery to Jimin. They talk almost every day and Jeongguk wears the same smile he'd had on his face back on their first day of school. Jimin continues feeling weird around him, but it's a nice kind of weird Jimin has yet to understand. 


They hang out after classes are over, Jeongguk buying him coffee, helping him with whatever he's struggling that particular day. Jimin’s heart fails every single time Jeongguk looks at him. 


Jeongguk always walks him home after they finish studying, hands side by side, skin brushing against skin. 


Jimin’s body feels hot all over when Jeongguk says goodbye with a light kiss on his cheek. The feeling of Jeongguk’s hot mouth on him stays for the rest of his evening, even when he showers, changes into his comfy pajamas and crawls into bed early that night. 


He falls asleep. Then he wakes, crying. It's dark. Again, the paralysis keeps him still, quietly staring at the monster staring back at him. 


He's sobbing by the time he can move again, when arms close around his waist. He jumps, shaking, assuming the worst is here and now, that the monster has finally gotten to him. 


In bed, sits Jeongguk, smiling. 


“Jeongguk?” Jimin cries, heartbeat increasing. “What..” Jimin’s too terrified to speak.


“What’s wrong?” Jeongguk tilts his head innocently, raising his brows. 


“What are you doing here? How… How did you get in?” Jimin is one second away of falling, knees trembling so hard he thinks he can hear his bones moving around. 


“Jimin, you don’t remember?” Jeongguk gets up, walking towards Jimin. “Are you okay?”


“I don’t… Jeongguk, why are you here?” 


Jeongguk sighs. Jimin steps back. 


“You really don’t remember?” Jimin shakes his head. “We were texting and you asked me if I could stop by. You said you couldn’t sleep, so I stayed for a little while. I think we both fell asleep at some point. Then all of sudden you woke up screaming and here we are.” 


“I… I asked you over? I don’t… How…” He paces around the room, shivering as he brushes the remains of tears away from his face. Jimin is so confused. He was alone just now, he never found the courage to text him. He saw the monster. It was here. Nothing makes sense. 


“Hey, hey,” Jeongguk grabs his wrist and Jimin stops, the patch of skin where Jeongguk’s touch burning. “I can go, if you want me to. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 


Jimin nods, sniffling. His head is a mess, his tachycardia getting stronger. “Yeah, I think… I think you should go.” 




He watches Jeongguk putting on his shoes, getting his things and reaching the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”


Jimin mumbles yes before Jeongguk is out of his sight. The first thing he can think of is turning the lights on. The clock at the nightstand announces it’s almost four A.M even though Jimin remembers vividly that he went to bed around eleven. His phone is there, too, untouched and Jimin unlocks it quickly, scrolling through his message. 


There’s an entire conversation between the two of them and, indeed, a text message from Jimin asking Jeongguk to come over. He has no memory of talking to Jeongguk whatsoever or greeting Jeongguk in or getting into bed with him. None of that makes sense, but the messages are proof that it’s real and it happened. Jeongguk was telling the truth. 


He rushes to the bathroom, fingers digging into his purse to find what he needs right now. The pills are heavy on his hand, and Jimin is well-aware of the fact that he shouldn’t be taking another one, but he fills the cup waiting in the sink and chugs it down in one go.


Jimin feels light-headed, dizzy. Curling in bed sounds like a perfectly good plan since his pillows look so comfortable right now. He cuddles one, nuzzling at the fabric. His body is shutting down and so is his mind, but the scent on it is different, familiar. 


He sleeps to the smell of chrysanthemums, but when he wakes up one hour later, it’s gone.




Memories of last night wash over Jimin’s mind as he walks to class. How scared he was, how dreadful it felt being so helpless. The worst part isn’t even the fact that he apparently blacked out most of his night, but the idea of Jeongguk being there during such a fragile moment. Jimin feels exposed, defeated. Mostly, Jimin is afraid he might have ruined his friendship with Jeongguk completely. 


Jeongguk knows; he’s seen it. Jimin is a freak and no matter how hard he tried to play the part, to belong, Jimin’s nightmares would always take the best of him. 


So when Jeongguk comes running to him, seemly out of breath after second period, Jimin is expecting anything than what actually happens. 


“There you are,” Jeongguk grins, throwing his arm over Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin freezes on his spot, head spinning and heat spreading through his entire body, down to his toes and up to his ears. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”


Jimin doesn't speak, has no space to do so because Jeongguk is already rambling about some asshole in his Philosophy class. Jimin swallows the bitter lump in his throat, thanking whatever God out there that might be listening. If he had the chance to talk, Jimin wouldn't know what to say. 


“Anyway, how did you sleep?” Jeongguk asks suddenly. 


Jimin panics. “What?”


“You look very tired, babe.” 


The way Jeongguk so casually calls him babe catches Jimin out of guard. He stutters. “I-I'm fine.” 


Jeongguk ponders over it for a while, chewing on his bottom lip. He looks pleased with Jimin’s answer, smiles again and pulls Jimin to his chest. 


“Great,” he says. “So I was thinking we should go to your dorm later, you know, to work on that stupid project. Mrs. Yoo will kill us if we don't show her some progress next week.”


“O-okay,” Jimin decides on commenting, following Jeongguk through the hall. 


Anxiety creeps up in his belly, fingertips getting numb as Jimin hears Jeongguk’s excited rant on a new video game he's heard of. Confusion, too, fills his mind. Jeongguk didn't say anything about the previous night. Jimin can't stop wondering if he hasn't brought the subject up because it didn't matter or because he's worried about Jimin. Either way, something is wrong and Jimin is tired, really tired, but being this close to Jeongguk, the faint scent of flowers lulls him in. 


Something is wrong and Jeongguk’s arm around him keeps him grounded and safe. And there's nothing wrong about that. 


Coming back to his dorm, Jimin finds some sort of relief in the empty room. Social interaction has been too much on him lately and the silence he finds there is welcoming. Jeongguk told him he had some things to take care of so they parted ways before Jimin could meet Taehyung for lunch. 


They eat and talk and Jimin laughs a lot. He mentions Jeongguk at some point, and Taehyung frowns, telling him he’s never seen a Jeongguk around the campus before. Jimin tells him they are doing a project together and Taehyung hums. Jimin feels a little unsettled at Taehyung’s reaction but doesn’t think much of it. 


The rest of the day goes by smoothly, though Jimin’s head pulses badly. He takes something for the pain and decides to work on his diary. Dr. Kim didn't like that he hadn't written much for the past couple of weeks, and considering the last few days and events, Jimin might have something to write about. 


Dr. Kim had asked him if he could draw to which Jimin politely agreed. So now Jimin draws instead of writing and the pages are full with red eyes, black hands and Jeongguk’s name scribbled around it. His psychiatrist had encouraged him to continue, even if Jimin didn't know why he kept writing Jeongguk’s name day after day, without realizing. 


He's finishing drawing another set of disturbing eyes when a knock on the door startles him. 


“Hey,” Jeongguk greets him with a kiss on the cheek and walks in. Jimin holds his breath, hand tight around the doorknob. 


Jeongguk doesn't waste more than five seconds to make himself at home. Jimin has half the mind to actually care, because having Jeongguk there gives him heart palpitations. He's learned those are the good kind, not bad ones. 


They get started rather quickly, Jeongguk oftentimes touching Jimin’s arm or playing with his hair. Jimin pretends he's not affected by Jeongguk’s attention, brushes the back of his hand against his cheeks to make them cool down for a little bit. Not helpful, it seems, but at least Jimin uses it as a different distraction than Jeongguk himself. 


“I like your lamp,” Jeongguk admits at some point. 


Jimin hums, flipping through the book he's trying to read. 


“I like it better when it's off,” Jimin hears Jeongguk whispering and his stomach twists, eyes widening. 


“What did you say?” 


Jeongguk tilts his head, winking. “I said I think I might buy one.” 


Jimin’s throat closes, mouth dry. The exhaustion must have gotten into him if he's hearing things like that. 


They study for a couple of hours and when the time comes for Jeongguk to leave, the sky is dark outside. 


“See you later,” Jeongguk announces and Jimin gives him a shy smile. 


Once Jeongguk is gone, Jimin follows with his daily routine. He cleans after them, devours two cups of ramen (he didn't realize how hungry he was until his stomach started to growl), takes quite a long shower, letting the water wash away his insecurities and the tension building on his shoulders. His mind can't grasp the idea of what's been happening lately and Jeongguk stays there, stuck in his head, even though he's left a while ago. 


Jimin's eyes are heavy, so he pops another pill for the day and even though shouldn't, he definitely shouldn’t, he does it anyway. 


The effect isn't as fast as Jimin wishes. He curls up against his pillows and lets the medication do its job. Not the best idea, of course, since Jimin’s mind is still on overdrive, too many thoughts running around and making a mess of him. Slowly, almost in slow motion, Jimin feels his body shutting down, limb by limb. Eventually, his eyes close, too, and sleep takes him in. 




Jimin wakes up to a light stretch of pain, almost pleasurable. At first, he’s a little disoriented, blinking the blurriness away. The room is dark, though Jimin can feel his body just fine. It’s weird, because he can feel a lot of things, especially the discomfort growing inside of him. 


Looking down, he finds his answer to that. Jeongguk’s face is hidden between his open legs and the warmth spreading through his ass is wet, too, and Jimin is baffled to think that it might be Jeongguk’s tongue. Even more to realize he’s naked, cock pulsing against his belly.


He’s petrified while hearing the very loud noises Jeongguk’s making as he laps his mouth around his rim, digging his tongue in and out. It’s a dream, Jimin religiously tells himself. It’s just a dream. A perfect and amazing dream, because Jeongguk is there and everything feels too much, but too good and Jimin doesn’t want it to stop. So he arches his back, letting a moan escape his lips. 


Then, Jeongguk lifts his head and Jimin isn’t sure about anything anymore. 


“Did you fall asleep on me again?” Jeongguk chuckles, spit glowing on his chin and lips. 


Jimin’s too shocked, too numb to reply. He’s left open-mouthed, making Jeongguk laugh. The action hits Jimin full force, Jeongguk’s voice loud and clear in the room. 


“Jeongguk, is it r-really you?”  Jimin asks, stuttering. 


Jeongguk coos, gripping Jimin’s thighs and spreading them open. “You are so adorable, baby.”


Jimin wheezes, not expecting Jeongguk’s fingers to feel so strong and firm on his skin. Which is just unbelievable, because this is a dream. It has to be. 


“H-how did you even get here?” Jimin tries, hissing when something presses against his hole. Jeongguk’s finger, probably, since his hands are nowhere to be seen. 


“I love when you play stupid,” he groans, leaning forward to grab Jimin’s cock into his hand. Jimin moans again, feeling hot all over. He’s half-hard, the tip of his small cock leaking embarrassingly. 


He doesn’t understand. If this is a dream, why does it look and feel so real? Why does Jeongguk’s hand going up and down his length makes heat boil at the pit of his stomach? Why does Jeongguk’s finger slides so easily into him, curling just right in all the right places, rendering Jimin completely submissive to his touch? 


“Jeongguk,” Jimin breathes out. “What are you doing?” 


Jeongguk scoffs, adding another finger in. “What does it look like, baby?” He moves a little bit, lowering his head until Jimin can feel the feather-like touch of Jeongguk’s breath on his skin, near his balls. Jeongguk licks a fat strap over them, meeting with his fingers fucking into Jimin gently.


“I can’t believe you fell asleep on me again,” Jeongguk tsks, quite muffled, tongue re-tracing its path back to Jimin’s balls, licking them up all the way to his cock. “You do this all the time. I guess I’ll have to fuck you harder to keep you awake.” 


Jimin’s breath hitches as Jeongguk’s mouth sucks him in. His brain is currently hyper-aware of every sensation flowing through his body, choosing to ignore Jeongguk’s words and the meaning behind them. It feels nice, so nice, too much, too fast, but also too little, too slow. 


The stretch stings as Jeongguk adds another finger, already two knuckles deep inside him, spit dripping from Jimin’s tight hole. He goes through an extreme wave of pleasure, his cock throbbing in Jeongguk’s mouth, toes curling while he spills into Jeongguk’s throat. 


A slap hits him once he starts to come down from his high, chest rising with difficulty as he tries to compose himself. He’s a mess, hair sticking to his forehead, nipples hard and itching, full of sweat. Jimin yelps, Jeongguk’s palm stirring hot against his skin.


“What a messy slut I have here,” Jeongguk says as he moves his mouth away from Jimin’s cock go with a pop . Jimin whines, the cold air hitting his naked body, softening. Jimin watches eye-wided Jeongguk licking the few droplets of cum from his swollen lips. “I barely touched and you already came in my mouth. Such a greedy little slut,” Jeongguk teases.


Jimin wants to hide, face burning in humiliation. He doesn’t know why this is happening, lacking the proper knowledge and experience in sex, though the way Jeongguk looks at him like he’s done something bad and needs to be punished is enough to make his cock twitching again. 


Jeongguk moves away, pulling his fingers out, leaving Jimin’s hole clutching around nothing. Jimin whines, louder, thrusting his hips down for Jeongguk. Jeongguk snickers, standing tall on the bed, hovering over Jimin. He takes his shirt off, then his pants and underwear, freeing his cock. Jimin hadn’t even noticed he was the only one naked until then, hungrily eyeing Jeongguk’s movements and biting his lips once he realizes Jeongguk’s size, big and fat and shining red. 


His mouth waters, thinking of how good it would feel sliding down his throat. The thought terrifies him, because Jimin has never done that before, but his body reacts naturally to the idea, just like it had been doing the entire time since he woke up. Like he’s used to this, to Jeongguk manhandling on the bed, pushing his chest against the sheets, opening his legs up as he makes Jimin’s back arch, ass up, completely on display. 


“So pretty,” Jeongguk says, grabbing Jimin’s waist with both hands to bring him closer. “Can’t wait to make you scream.” 


It’s almost feral, how Jeongguk treats him. A digit plays around Jimin’s hole until something bigger, hotter and way heavier breaches the ring of muscles, eliciting a chant of painful moans from Jimin. Jeongguk’s cock keeps going deeper, opening him up so much Jimin’s scared he might break. 


“J-Jeongguk, p-please,” Jimin mewls, drool gathering at the corners of his lips, tainting his pillowcase. Jeongguk presses harder, burying himself into Jimin. 


A few seconds is all it takes for Jeongguk to start thrusting. The pace is anything but gentle, it’s harsh and messy and it has Jimin melting and screaming pretty quickly. Jeongguk’s cock hits the right spots over and over again, Jimin’s own resting untouched under his belly, hardening with the rough friction. 


Jeongguk doesn’t stop, fucking into Jimin faster and violently. The bed shakes and Jimin prays that this dream will never end, never wanting to stop feeling Jeongguk’s thick cock filling his walls. He doesn’t know when he started crying, if it was when Jeongguk’s hand closed around his neck or when he rolled Jimin slightly to the side, the new angle even more brutal and precise.


A new wave of arousal rushes through his veins, stomach twisting at the tingling growing inside. Jimin wants to touch himself, he really does, but he’s too busy sobbing to fully concentrate on doing anything else but take what Jeongguk gives to him, cock sliding effortlessly into him, hitting Jimin’s prostate every time. 


Just like earlier, Jimin’s toes curl, his entire body trembles and his vision blacks out. He comes all over himself with a high-pitched scream, chanting Jeongguk’s name until he’s out of breath. Jeongguk remains fucking him, grinding his hips against Jimin’s, pressing his cock harder than ever, Jimin squirming in oversensitivity.


It hurts, but Jimin likes that it hurts, wants Jeongguk to bend him in half, take pieces out of him until there’s nothing but Jeongguk inside of him. 


“Look at you,” Jeongguk teases with a hoarse voice, clearly affected. “You look even more beautiful with cum on you. Tell me, babe,” Jeongguk whispers, now, leaning to lick over Jimin’s ear. “Want me to cum on you? Fill you up? Brand you? Make you mine?” Jeongguk continues to grind against him, adding pressure to his prostate. “Do you want to be mine, Jimin?” Jeongguk asks, kissing his ear shell. 


Jimin is too fucked up to reply. Bells ring inside his head, warning him, begging him to just stop this and say no. But Jimin feels safe, warm. Happy. Jeongguk makes him forget. So Jimin nods, determined. “Yes.” 


Jeongguk cums, pounding into Jimin’s ass a few times until come drips from his hole, messing the sheets and Jimin’s thighs. He fucks Jimin through it, milks himself inside him.


Tears fall from Jimin’s eyes, hot all over, Jeongguk rounding his arms around him in a warm embrace. Jeongguk sighs, fucking his cum back into his hole.


“J-Jeongguk,” Jimin almost begs, eyes heavy, exhaustion sucking him in. 


When Jeongguk is finally done, he turns Jimin on his back, adjusting himself to stand on his elbows, soft gaze sending Jimin a strange sense of satisfaction. “Yes, my love?” 


“Kiss me.” 


“What a silly, little Jimin,” Jeongguk says, hair trickling with sweat. Jimin loves the smile Jeongguk wears, as if it’s made just for him and as Jeongguk kisses him, Jimin feels like he could die like this, in Jeongguk’s arms, pretty pink lips brushing against his. 


Jimin’s nose scrunches, the smell of chrysanthemums suddenly filling his nostrils. The scent grows stronger as Jeongguk swipes his tongue on his bottom lip, biting the flesh. Jimin decides that he loves the smell just as much as he loves Jeongguk’s taste. 


He lets go, dozing off in between kisses. Jimin giggles, because he’s already asleep, dreaming a beautiful dream. He never wants to wake up. 


Jimin doesn’t even care if the lights are off. 


“You are mine now,” Jimin hears, darkness consuming him. Jeongguk’s voice sounds distant and he’s cold, all of sudden. 


Jeongguk’s eyes turning red is the last thing he sees.