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Namjoon whistles as he unlocks the front door of his apartment, balancing the frilly pastel box in his other hand. The patisserie wasn’t exactly on his way home from work, but it was always worth the extra half hour to bring Jimin his favorite macarons as a surprise.
He’d texted Jimin that he’d be late coming home but he hadn’t received a response. It’s a little unlike him, but Namjoon’s not worried. He just hopes Jimin’s home so he can see his cute boyfriend’s smile as he opens the box of candy-colored treats.
He walks inside and, yes, Jimin’s definitely home – the lights are on and there’s some muffled sound from behind the closed bedroom door. Namjoon trots to the bedroom eagerly. He’s been looking forward to kissing Jimin all day.
He opens the door, and stops dead in his tracks.
Objectively, he knew he’d see it eventually. They had discussed it extensively. He and Jimin were almost entirely on the same page when it came to kink.
But nothing could truly prepare Namjoon to walk into the apartment he shares with his beloved boyfriend only to see said boyfriend getting railed into the bed by his best friend Taehyung.
Namjoon’s entire stomach tilts on its axis and he feels small, infinitesimal. Worthless. They know he’s there. They knew he’d be coming home and they didn’t care that he’d see them, that he’d see Taehyung pounding into Jimin like he owned him and defiling the bed that Namjoon and Jimin share every night.
Jimin’s eyes cut through Namjoon dismissively. He’s on his hands and knees, thighs trembling with the force of Taehyung’s thrusts, and Namjoon realizes with a sickening lurch that Jimin’s only looking at him because Taehyung’s got Jimin’s little ponytail in his huge hand. Jimin never lets Namjoon tug his hair, only lets him play with it if it’s unstyled, but Taehyung’s yanking on Jimin’s hair like it’s a handle and Jimin’s just taking it.
Nausea rises like a sweeping, deadly tide through Namjoon, wiping out all his thoughts of macarons and having a quiet night in watching television, but in its wake it leaves behind molten, syrupy arousal that clings to his bones and makes his knees weak.
The gasps that escape Jimin’s mouth are high-pitched and needy, falling from his plump lips every time Taehyung fucks into him.
When Jimin finally speaks, there’s no apologies, no excuses. He just says, “Oh. You’re back,” with a sneer, like Namjoon is a particularly persistent strain of mold, and moans again. The pleasure from Taehyung’s thrusts totally transforms his expression from disdainful to blissful. It’s like he’s already dismissed Namjoon from his thoughts.
Namjoon’s so, so fucking hard, skin crawling with energy and unsure of what to do. He has to say something, anything. That’s his boyfriend. And Taehyung isn’t just Jimin’s best friend – he’s also his ex. Namjoon’s heard plenty of stories about how good Taehyung was in bed, how compatible he and Jimin were. And seeing it in the flesh, how Jimin’s writhing like a whore, just underscores Jimin’s argument.
Namjoon opens his mouth to tell Jimin off and what comes out is “You’re fucking Taehyung.”
Jimin rolls his eyes at Namjoon but then his pupils get caught like that momentarily after Taehyung lets go of his hair to grab his dick. “Well spotted,” Jimin pants. “Honestly, lucky for you.”
“Lucky for me?” Namjoon takes a step into the room and puts the box of macarons down on the end table. His cock aches where it’s trapped in his jeans but he’s not even sure if he can take it out yet. He realizes, with a shiver, that he has no power in this situation whatsoever. Jimin could just tell him to leave and he would. He’d go sit in his living room with his stupid big cock hard in his pants while Jimin spread his legs for someone else.
“Yeah. Maybe if you watch Taehyungie, you’ll actually learn how to fuck me right,” Jimin bites out between whimpers. Taehyung grins at Namjoon then fucking winks at him, confidence rolling off him like cologne.
“Watch and learn,” Taehyung says cheekily. He brings both hands down to Jimin’s hips and squeezes them, fingers forming valleys in the plush fat of Jimin’s thighs. Taehyung yanks Jimin backwards onto his cock, spearing him so hard that Jimin’s necklace (an anniversary gift from Namjoon) bounces wildly against his chest. Jimin makes a noise that Namjoon’s never heard before – it’s low and tortured and makes Namjoon’s cock leak precome into his boxers.
“Yes, fuck, like that, sweetheart,” Jimin murmurs, and it hurts so fucking good to hear Jimin call Taehyung that. “You always fuck me so good, Taehyungie.”
Namjoon’s palms are sweating and he’s dizzy with arousal. He steps closer to the bed. He wants to see every detail – the way Jimin’s thighs ripple after every impact from Taehyung, the tight grip Jimin’s little fingers have on the bedspread, the tears beading in Jimin’s eyes.
“Of course I do,” Taehyung laughs. His thrusts start rolling more, back bowing with the effort. Jimin wails. “That’s because you’re mine.” He stares into Namjoon’s eyes as he says it. He says it so confidently, and in that moment, Namjoon thinks it would be foolish to disagree with him.
“I’m yours, I’m yours, shit,” Jimin babbles. “Show Namjoon what he can’t have, baby, please, come in me, please…”
Namjoon feels so sick and impotent, standing there silently, hands shaking, as Taehyung jerks Jimin to completion until come spatters all over the bedspread then finishes inside him. Taehyung holds Jimin by the hips and doesn’t let him move until he’s finished pumping his load, and when he pulls out with a squelch that shatters Namjoon’s heart, he slaps Jimin’s ass like he owns it.
Jimin’s melted into the bed now, limbs splayed out. “God,” he says finally. “I haven’t been fucked that good in years.”
Namjoon wants to cry. He wants to cry, but he also would do anything to try to prove that he has learned something from this demonstration and that he can fuck Jimin just as good as Taehyung did. He loves Jimin so much. He’d do anything for him. He could be so, so good for Jimin given the chance.
Jimin glances over to Namjoon coolly. He smiles, but the smile doesn’t meet his eyes, and his tone is icy when he says, “Oh, I forgot you were still here.”
“I’m,” Namjoon’s voice cracks. He licks his lips, determined to power forward even though Jimin is definitely laughing at him now. “I’m still here.”
“And do you think you’ve learned anything?” Jimin asks patronizingly.
“Yes, yes, definitely,” Namjoon says. He realizes that he’s walked all the way up to the bed, so eager to prove his worth to Jimin. “Please, Jimin, please let me fuck you.”
Jimin snorts. “Why should I? Your useless dick has never done anything for me.”
“Because, because, I…” Namjoon trails off, cheeks hot. His heart is racing but his mind is sluggish and slow. He bites back his frustration because he knows he can make Jimin happy but he can’t think of a way to verbalize it. God, he really is useless.
A snakelike grin twists Jimin’s pretty mouth into something cruel and wicked. He’s about to say something devastating, Namjoon knows it, and then he really will cry, but Taehyung puts a hand on Jimin’s shoulder and stops him.
“You should let him, Jiminie,” Taehyung says. Namjoon opens his mouth to thank him, but the air leaves his lungs when Taehyung continues with: “It’ll probably be funny, at least.”
“You’re always right,” Jimin says, sickly sweet, then kisses Taehyung’s cheek. He gets back up on his hands and knees and turns so his ass faces Namjoon. Taehyung’s come is starting to dribble out of his hole. Namjoon wants to die.
Frozen in place, all Namjoon can do is gape like a fish and stare at the come as it trickles down Jimin’s balls. Jimin is waxed. Jimin knows Namjoon likes it when he waxes but he hasn’t done it in months. And that’s totally fine with Namjoon, but knowing Jimin went out and got himself waxed to make Taehyung happy, to make himself into a better fuckhole for Taehyung, causes Namjoon’s cock to twitch angrily.
He doesn’t realize how long he’s been standing there until Jimin snaps, “Hurry up before I change my mind.”
Namjoon jumps into action, pulling off his clothes as fast as he can and tripping on the hem of his jeans. Just when he thinks he can’t blush any harder, he hears Taehyung snicker at his clumsiness. Fuck. He’s so overwhelmed and so turned on that he’s worried he’ll come almost immediately.
Namjoon gets onto the bed, now fully naked, and shuffles into place behind Jimin’s ass. It’s really a magnificent ass, and seeing it marred by someone else’s come makes it even more beautiful to Namjoon.
Fuck, Taehyung came so much. Namjoon probably doesn’t even need lube. He presses forward and the first touch of his cockhead to Jimin’s hole is rapturous, and then it all comes crashing down because Jimin’s spine is stiffening and Namjoon hears him say in a deadly voice:
“Are you trying to fuck me without a condom?”
Namjoon cringes backwards, face hot and sweat pouring down his temples. His dick feels unwieldy and huge between his legs. “I– yes?”
Jimin’s tone is venomous when he replies, “I don’t want your disgusting come in me. Wrap your pathetic dick up before you fuck me with it.”
Namjoon gulps, now completely discombobulated. He can’t remember the last time he and Jimin fucked with a condom. Jimin loves to be fucked raw.
When Namjoon’s voice comes out, it’s tiny and pitiful. “I don’t…”
Jimin exhales, sharp and exasperated. “You don’t what?”
“I don’t…” Namjoon fights back tears. He was so fucking close to being inside Jimin and he can feel it being ripped away. “I don’t think we have condoms, Jimin.”
Jimin finally deigns to haughtily look at him. “That sounds like your problem, not mine.”
Namjoon bites his lip. He won’t cry, not in front of Jimin and Taehyung. They’d be so cruel. He can do this. He can find condoms. He gets up, cock bobbing uselessly in front of him, and rifles through the bedside drawers, praying he’ll find a single foil-wrapped package. He can hear Jimin and Taehyung giggling about how dumb he looks with his big dick and nowhere to put it, but he’s determined. Finally, he finds his prize: a lone condom, suspiciously shoved deep at the back of the drawer.
He puts it on with trembling hands and positions himself behind Jimin once more. He shivers when he rubs his cockhead through the mess leaking out of Jimin’s hole. He knows Jimin must be so wet but he can’t even feel it – he’s barred from even feeling Jimin’s skin on his skin. He doesn’t even get that privilege.
“C’mon,” Jimin says bitchily. “I’m all stretched out already, just get it over with.”
Namjoon grits his teeth and slowly feeds his cock into Jimin’s hole. Fuck, Jimin is right. He is loose, open and ready to accept Namjoon, even though it’s usually a challenge given Namjoon’s size. The condom dulls every sensation and feels like a flashing neon sign pointing to how inadequate Namjoon is, how he doesn’t deserve to fuck his boyfriend.
“How do my sloppy seconds feel?” Taehyung asks with a laugh, then laughs even more when Namjoon moans in response.
“I’m glad one of us is having a good time,” Jimin says, sounding bored. “Taetae, you were so much bigger. I can barely feel him.”
And that’s a lie. That’s a blatant lie. Taehyung is big, sure, but Namjoon is definitely, objectively bigger. But in the moment, he feels small, so small, like he’s been measured and found completely lacking. He focuses his energies on pounding into Jimin like Taehyung did.
Replicating Taehyung’s powerful thrusts is no easy feat, but Namjoon thinks he’s doing a pretty good job. He’s feeling good about himself for the first time since walking in the door, because he knows his hips are rocking steadily and he’s rubbing down Jimin’s back, which Jimin always likes.
He can do this. He can show Taehyung that he’s not useless.
Jimin clenches around him and moans, and Namjoon wants to sob with how happy it makes him. He starts pounding into Jimin faster, heart soaring with elation, but Jimin reaches behind himself and smacks Namjoon hard on the thigh.
“Fucking stop,” he hisses. Namjoon does, heartbeat thudding in his ears. What did he do wrong? Couldn’t Jimin tell how hard he was trying? Didn’t he make Jimin moan?
Namjoon pulls out and sinks back onto his knees, heart in the pit of his stomach. His cock throbs so painfully at the loss, all that tight slick warmth wrenched away like he’d never even been inside Jimin in the first place.
“Taehyungie! You’re hard again!” Jimin exclaims, words dripping with honey.
Oh. Oh.
That moan wasn’t because of him, or for him. Jimin made that sweet, beautiful sound because his best friend is hard.
“Baby!” Jimin says, crawling forward into Taehyung’s lap. He lifts himself up on his gorgeous thick thighs and lowers himself down onto Taehyung’s bare pink cock, come coating his shaft. The change in Jimin is immediate. His entire back ripples and he tosses his head back, eyes closed in pleasure, mouth puckered open in a silent ‘oh.’
“What about Namjoon?” Taehyung asks, voice gravel-rough. He lifts Jimin like he’s nothing and fills him with his cock, over and over, until the obscene wet sounds fill the room.
“Huh? Oh. He can jerk off, or something,” Jimin says dreamily, not even bothering to open his eyes.
Namjoon bites his lip hard. He had been so close, so sure that he was finally proving himself to Jimin, that being instructed to touch himself with his own hand feels so cruel. He could’ve come inside Jimin, the love of his fucking life, and now he’s been relegated to jerking off to someone else fucking like a pathetic teenage virgin with porn as his only outlet.
He strips the condom off and takes himself into his hand, then hesitates. “Um, should I stay on the bed, too, or…?” He asks. He’s so scared of doing something wrong and losing the privilege to even touch himself at all.
“I don’t fucking care, shut up,” Jimin snaps. His ass jiggles beautifully with each thrust, and Taehyung reaches down to smack it a few more times.
Namjoon swallows hard around the lump in his throat. He’s gotten this far – he can’t get choked up now. He gets off the bed and stands a few feet away, feeling like a complete idiot but scared he’ll – he’ll bother Jimin or fuck up worse than he already has so far this evening. When he finally grips himself tight he can’t help but let out a moan, then he cringes and waits for Jimin to tell him off.
The insult never comes, but Namjoon figures it’s because Jimin seems past the point of speech now. Taehyung’s twisting his nippes and biting huge, conspicuous bruises into Jimin’s neck as he pounds into him, and Jimin’s, well. On one is the only way to describe it. He’s now continually making noise and he keeps clawing at Taehyung’s back, hands scrambling for purchase as he gets bounced and bounced onto Taehyung’s thick cock.
Namjoon’s hand is a cheap substitute for what’s happening on the bed, but he’s so worked up and desperate-feeling that he’s close anyway. He wants to release all the tension that courses through him and strings his nerves tight. He hates the feeling of his rough, clumsy hand over his cock, dragging against the skin unpleasantly, when he could’ve been buried inside Jimin. The misery of his situation just makes him tug harder.
He staggers back against the bedside table and pumps his cock one, two, three times before spurting all over his fingers, come dripping thick and opaque onto his hand and wrist. He blushes when he realizes Jimin hasn’t even noticed him coming, too busy nibbling on Taehyung’s earlobe. His emotions have been so heightened since walking into the bedroom that now the shame of coming this quick comes with a thunderclap that rocks him to his core. He tries to heave a breath but what comes out instead is a giant sob that reverberates through his chest.
Namjoon’s choking on his feelings of inadequacy and there are hot tears spilling down his cheeks, and he can’t be in the room with them a second longer without fully breaking down, so he escapes to the bathroom. It’s colder in there, quiet. He can’t hear the sounds of pleasure Jimin makes, just his own wet gasps and sniffles.
Namjoon looks at himself in the mirror, tear-stained and pathetic, and washes his face, trying to get his cheeks to stop flushing. He wipes his come off with a washcloth then takes several deep, calming breaths.
It helps.
He’s still raw inside, torn and frayed from how good Jimin has hurt him, but he’s starting to come back into himself. He’s stopped crying. The only evidence is some pinkness around his eyes.
When he goes back to the bedroom, Taehyung is still fucking Jimin.
“Your – fuck, Tae – your stamina is fucking amazing, baby,” Jimin groans with a pointed look at Namjoon. There’s a nasty bruise that forms on Namjoon’s ego with that comment, but he knows it’s also Jimin’s way of bringing him back into the scene, easing him back to earth by acknowledging him.
“So good for me, Jimin,” Taehyung grunts out, eyes closed, finally looking as overwhelmed as Namjoon’s felt this whole time. “So fucking tight…”
“Come on, honey,” Jimin cajoles, pressing wet kisses all over Taehyung’s mouth and face. “Namjoon’s watching, come on. Ruin me for him. Every time he fucks me, I want him to see you coming in me instead.”
Taehyung’s composure shatters, and that shouldn’t be as satisfying to Namjoon as it is, to watch him twitch and grunt and stutter his hips up until he’s coming into Jimin a second time. Jimin pets him through the aftershocks and slowly eases off his cock, not even trying to clench to keep the come inside. It spills down Jimin’s thighs so he looks wet and debauched.
Jimin turns back towards Namjoon and it’s like seeing a brilliant sunrise for the first time. His whole face lights up with warmth and affection and he spreads his arms wide. “Come here, Joonie,” he says radiantly. “Bring my favorite boy to me.”
Namjoon goes.
He folds himself up small so Jimin can pull him into his lap. They lean against the headboard together, next to Taehyung. Everywhere Jimin touches him feels lighter, warmer. The nausea and fear that had held him in a tight grip start to loosen and ebb, draining out of his muscles and limbs until they’re just barely there in his fingers and toes.
Jimin presses kiss after kiss to his forehead, to his shoulders, to his nose.
“You did so good,” he whispers to Namjoon. “So proud of you.”
“You did great!” Taehyung says. He must’ve gone to the kitchen while Namjoon was coming down because he’s got a bottle of water that he hands to Namjoon.
“My baby,” Jimin keeps repeating. “My baby.”
They both cuddle with Namjoon, praising him and filling him to the brim with happiness. Taehyung sticks around and pops macarons into their mouths like a proud mama bird, making Jimin guess the flavors after each bite. They crunch sweet and delicious in Namjoon’s mouth, but not as sweet as the satisfaction of seeing Jimin so pleased.
When Namjoon and Jimin finally go to bed that night, after saying goodbye to Taehyung (and promising to see him for brunch that weekend) and showering together, they hold each other tight beneath the dryer-warm sheets.
Namjoon nuzzles into the pillows of the bed where he and Jimin had sex for the first time, where he told Jimin he loved him for the first time and probably the hundredth time too, and where he’s now seen Jimin fucked senseless by Taehyung. He doesn’t want to be anywhere else.