Jeongguk is more than aware that he's a little bit of a cliche. Star quarterback of the football team, frat boy, a little bit of a playboy. Add in the fact that he's spent the entire semester pining over the head cheerleader into the mix and he's basically the embodiment of a romcom trope.
But he doesn't mind much: life is good. The only real issue is that he's been trying (and failing. Desperately failing) to get in said head cheerleader's pants for the better part of the last four months and he's just about ready to crawl out of his skin.
But it's fine. He's fine.
He's three or five drinks deep already at one of the last house parties of the year. The semester is winding down to prepare for spring break, as most students are already done with their finals and just sticking around for the last football game coming up next week. Jeongguk has been stretched so thin between studying and practice for the past few weeks that he's not in much of a partying mood, so rather than being at the center of the room like he usually is he's kicked back on the couch by the back door nursing a drink, Taehyung sitting on the arm next to him as they quietly chat below the music pounding through the room.
"Staring at the door won't make him come any faster," Taehyung says, elbowing Jeongguk in the ribs. He pushes the little marble-swirled pipe pinched between his fingers under Jeongguk's nose, twisting it. "Relax. Smoke with me."
"Who said I'm waiting for him?" Jeongguk says into his red solo cup, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. He knows Taehyung isn't buying it. "I don't care if he comes or not."
"So you're saying if a certain Park Jimin were to walk through that door right now you wouldn't be over there in ten seconds flat pushing a drink into his hand and trying to take him up to your room?" Taehyung rolls his eyes, fishing a lighter out of his pocket. "Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it."
Jeongguk is about to talk back when a commotion across the room catches his attention. A small group is arriving, filtering in one by one, faces Jeongguk definitely recognizes. His heart rate spikes and he cranes his neck the tiniest bit, hoping Taehyung doesn't notice.
"Ah," Taehyung says, bringing the pipe to his lips and sparking the lighter up. "There he is."
It's amazing how Jimin manages to demand the attention of the room at large the second he enters. Faces turn to him like flowers toward the sun and Jimin glows under the attention, smiling sweetly and greeting the people around him with hugs and waving the lollipop clutched in his hand excitedly at those who yell his name from deeper into the room. It takes him a second to weave through the throng of people but once Jeongguk can see him properly his mouth instantly goes dry— he's clad in all black from head to toe, sinfully tight skinny jeans disappearing into his signature thick-soled Chelsea boots. A loose shirt just barely brushes his waistband, exposing a little peek of tan skin just above his belt that Jeongguk's eyes linger on for a few seconds too long.
"Hey, earth to Jeongguk," Taehyung says right in his ear, startling him. "Stop drooling over Jimin for two seconds and answer my question."
"Didn't hear you," Jeongguk mumbles. Jimin runs his fingers through his platinum blonde hair, silver rings on his fingers catching the light. His hair is getting longer, now, and Jeongguk thinks it suits him. To be fair though, just about anything would suit him so there's really no point in having a preference. "What'd you say?"
Taehyung exhales a thick cloud of milky smoke into the air right in front of Jeongguk's eyes but it doesn't stop him from watching as some poor fuck practically falls to his knees in front of Jimin with a drink in his hand. Jimin accepts it with a sweet smile that curls his eyes, leaning into the boy's space and toeing the heel of his boot into the carpet. Jeongguk ignores the little spark of jealousy that roars to life in his chest, tearing his eyes away. He focuses on the little pipe in Taehyung's hand. "Nah, not in the mood tonight."
"Suit yourself." Taehyung shrugs. Jeongguk is pretty sure Taehyung doesn't know the meaning of not being in the mood to smoke— they've been close friends ever since they were randomly assigned as roommates in their freshman year and Jeongguk is almost certain he's been at least a little bit high at all times for the better part of the last three years. He claims it helps his creative vision, and seeing as how Taehyung's paintings are some of the most beautiful Jeongguk has ever seen in his life he has little reason not to believe him.
Jimin is laughing at something his little call-boy is whispering to him, throwing his head back in a way that makes the glitter smeared high on his cheeks glint under the low light. He wrinkles his nose, draining the rest of his drink.
"Based on the way he's still the only thing you seem to be able to focus on I'm gonna guess you still haven't gotten into his pants yet?" Taehyung muses.
Jeongguk shoots Taehyung a look. "Trust me, if I had then you and the entire campus would know already. I plan on putting it on a billboard when it finally happens."
"Why don't you go talk to him, then? It's not like you to give up."
Jeongguk sighs, leaning back into the couch. "What do you want me to do? Throw myself at him like the rest of the room is doing?" He gestures at Jimin, who now has the attention of some girl giggling and flipping her hair. It makes him snort; good luck with that, sweetheart. "I'm not desperate."
"Are you sure? Because I kinda recall you spending every single party this year doing exactly what they're all doing."
"I mean I'm not gonna throw myself at him right now," Jeongguk almost whines. "I'm trying something new. Shut up."
"Ah, the make him come to you method." Taehyung nods. "Solid."
"Do you think he even knows I'm here?"
"Jeongguk, you live here."
"Maybe I should—"
"Oh look, he's headed this way now!" Taehyung says, tapping Jeongguk excitedly on the shoulder.
Jeongguk's eyes snap back to the last place he saw Jimin. He's still standing in the same spot, twisting the bright pink sucker between his fingers and nodding enthusiastically to the girl whispering something in his ear. "No he's n—"
"Hey, Jimin!" Taehyung shouts, reaching up to wave his hand up high in the air. Jimin startles and jerks his head up, searching the crowd for the source of the voice before he spots Taehyung and smiles, wiggling his fingers in their direction. His eyes snap to Jeongguk for a split second and they instantly narrow, making a chill shoot up and down his spine.
"I'm going to fucking kill you," Jeongguk says, watching Jimin say goodbye to his friends and start to pick through the crowd on the way over to them.
"Okay, hurry, act natural. He's almost here." Taehyung pauses, side-eyeing Jeongguk. "Actually, Jimin is so used to you looking at him like that it would be weirder if you tried being normal. You're good."
Jeongguk is this close to chewing Taehyung out but then Jimin is right in front of him, one hand cocked on his hip and the other carding through the platinum hair at his temple. He looks... bored, in a way, like he doesn't want to be standing there right now, and for some reason Jimin giving him that look, like, instantly turns him on.
"Hey," Jimin says, twirling the candy between his fingers. "What are you two doing all the way back here?" He raises his eyebrows at Jeongguk. "You're usually the first one doing keg stands in the middle of the living room."
"Jeongguk is just so exhausted,” Taehyung pipes up. “You know, it's not easy being the star football player. Quarterback and captain. Not only that but did you know he's been on the Dean's list for the past three semesters? If that's not the kind of quality you want from a long-term partner or even a casual hookup then I don't know what is. In fact—"
"Okay!" Jeongguk almost shouts, making Taehyung snap his mouth shut with a devilish little grin. Jeongguk has no idea why he keeps him around. "Just tired. Practice has been crazy with the big game coming up. You know."
"Mm," Jimin hums in agreement. The cheerleading squad works just as hard if not harder than the football team. They share a field during practice, in fact. Jeongguk is all too aware of that. "You two smoking?"
"Yeah, get in here," Taehyung says, passing the pipe and lighter over to Jimin who accepts it happily. Jeongguk hasn't been able to figure out how Taehyung, presumably a broke college student, is able to not only buy enough weed to smoke the amount that he does but also constantly share it. He's weirdly secretive about his private life. "Just packed a fresh bowl."
"Thank you," Jimin singsongs. He turns his attention back to Jeongguk. "Mind if I have a seat?"
"Oh, yeah, yeah. Sorry." Jeongguk hadn't realized how rude he's being, spread out in the middle of the loveseat leaving nowhere for Jimin to sit down. He's just about to move over to make room when Jimin smiles sweetly, stepping forward until their knees are pressed together and then sinking one into the the couch between the arm and Jeongguk's thigh, slinging the other over his lap and settling down over his knees.
"Best seat in the house," Jimin says, eyes boring into Jeongguk's. He vaguely registers Taehyung snickering at his left, most likely because he must look like a deer in the headlights right now but he doesn't care. Having Jimin on his lap is basically the best-case scenario of any situation he could ever find himself in.
"My bed is more comfortable," Jeongguk blurts.
Taehyung chokes. "Alright, that's my cue to leave," he says. "You two can keep that bowl." He slides off the arm of the couch and disappears into the crowd, leaving only Jimin and Jeongguk in their own little world.
Jimin giggles, letting his head loll onto his shoulder. He squeezes his knees a little bit around Jeongguk's thighs and shifts forward until the crotch of his jeans is just a hair's breath away from Jeongguk's zipper. The proximity has Jeongguk feeling dizzy and mentally praying that his dick doesn't get the memo embarrass him.
"Maybe I'll find out someday," Jimin says airily, but Jeongguk knows it's all talk. He's been playing this game with Jimin for far too long.
"You gonna smoke that?" Jeongguk says, mostly for something to say. His words crack around the dryness in his throat and he glances at his empty solo cup on the end table next to the couch, really needing another drink right about now, but he's sure as hell not going to make Jimin move to go make another.
"Let's share it, yeah?" Jimin says. He brings the pipe to mouth and wraps his lips around it, sparking the flame to life low in the bowl and inhaling deeply, holding it in his lungs.
Jeongguk hadn't really wanted to smoke tonight but what Jimin wants Jimin gets as far as he's concerned. He starts to reach for the pipe, expecting Jimin to hand it over, but Jimin shakes his head and smiles, a little wisp of smoke escaping the corner of his lips. He brings his hand to Jeongguk's cheek, the back of his knuckle brushing his jaw pressing his thumb on Jeongguk’s lower lip, urging him to part them.
It takes Jeongguk a second to register what Jimin wants him to do. Jimin just raises his eyebrows, adding a little more pressure to his touch until his thumb nail dips into the wet part of Jeongguk's mouth.
Jeongguk finally gets the memo and parts his lips the rest of the way, tipping his head back to inhale, drinking every curl of smoke from Jimin's lips into his own lungs. He can feel the heat from his mouth, the two of them so close together he can almost feel their lips brushing. He has to resist the urge to chase it— Jimin keeps his eyes on him, half-lidded and already a little bit hazy from drinks, probably from pregaming with his friends before heading over to the party. He looks like pure sex.
God, Jeongguk has never wanted anyone or anything more in his life.
Jimin doesn't pull back even once Jeongguk has exhaled all the smoke. In fact he's somehow gotten closer— Jimin's knees press into his waist, the swell of his ass sitting somewhere near where his cock has started stirring, pressing uncomfortably against his zipper. The weight of Jimin in his lap is almost torture but Jimin is only making it worse with the way he's looking at him, gaze dark and predatory. Like he wants him just as much as Jeongguk does.
The voice in the back of his head, the rational part of Jeongguk (if there's even such a thing when he has Park Jimin in his lap) reminds him that this is just what he and Jimin do. This push-and-pull, will-they-or-won't-they, absolutely torturous test of patience and sanity.
They have a pretty long history; the football team and cheerleading squad usually practice at the same time, and from the moment Jimin stepped on that field Jeongguk has been enamored with him. It would be nearly impossible to not be— he's very distracting, the way he prances around in his crop tops and little shorts rolled down low on his lips to make them even shorter than they're supposed to be, much to the dismay of Jeongguk's concentration but to the delight of basically every other part of him.
The first time Jimin had tangled their hands together and dragged Jeongguk behind the bleachers after practice was only a short couple of weeks into the semester. He'd let Jeongguk push him into the fence and slot his knee between his legs, had let him lick hotly into his mouth and tug on his hair until they were both panting and worked up, a flush high on their cheeks. But just as Jeongguk was about to suggest they head back to the frat house only a short walk away, Jimin had pulled back, tugging at the hem of his painfully short top and sliding his tongue over his kiss-swollen lips.
That was fun, he'd said. Maybe we can finish this next time?
It became somewhat of an unspoken routine between them. Every once in a while— only every couple of weeks, really, by no means a regular thing— Jimin would be extra distracting during practice, would somehow always be... doing something that Jeongguk would deem a hazard to his health, from stretching until he was nearly bent in half, tying his shoelaces, and— on one particularly excruciating day— doing a full split with his eyes on Jeongguk the whole time, lips curled in a way that was far too innocent to not be intentional.
But no matter how much Jeongguk wanted to, their little meetups never progressed any further than making out. Every single time, just as Jeongguk was starting to get really wound up, Jimin would pull away, tell him he had to go, and leave.
Needless to say, outside of football and studying there's little that Jeongguk has been able to think about outside of Jimin, Jimin, Jimin.
He hasn't even slept with anyone since he and Jimin have started whatever thing they've gotten into. He did once, had picked up some guy who’d been trying to get in his pants for weeks. He ended up fucking him face down with his head pressed into the pillow, trying (and failing) to imagine that it was Jimin trembling underneath him instead.
It didn't work, not even a little bit. If anything it only made him more frustrated, knowing that the only thing that would sate his appetite is a taste of Jimin himself.
Jimin knows it, too. It's clear in the way he's looking at him right now, the way he darts his tongue out against the end of the pipe before sliding it between his pillowy lips, keeping his eyes on Jeongguk the entire time he lights up the second half of the bowl and inhales before repeating the motion from before, dipping his head down to exhale the smoke directly into Jeongguk's lungs.
He hadn't expected it to turn into a kiss; the second the last bit of smoke curls out from his mouth Jimin pushes down the few inches to press their lips together, tongue sliding hotly over Jeongguk's bottom lip and hands winding around his neck to wrap in his hair. Jeongguk responds to it immediately, doesn't even have to think about it before his hands are on Jimin's thighs and he's tilting his head to give him better access, meeting Jimin's tongue in the space between their lips. He tastes like vodka and the strawberry lollipop he'd been sucking on. He's already long associated the taste of artificial strawberry with kissing Jimin, to the point where a few weeks ago his friend had offered him a pink starburst and the second he ate it he'd popped a boner and had to head back to the frat house in shame.
Jimin pulls away for air, panting in the pretty way he does against Jeongguk's lips as he looks at him through his eyelashes. Jeongguk runs his hand down his thigh and his hand catches on something solid— he hadn't realized before that Jimin is wearing a little leather strap around his thigh, straining against his muscles. The silver hook is in the shape of a heart, ice cold under Jeongguk's hot palms.
"You've been working so hard," Jimin breathes. He massages the pads of his fingers into Jeongguk's shoulders, working at the tense muscles there. "Maybe there's somewhere we can go to release a little tension, mm? Blow off some steam?"
"Yeah?" Jeongguk asks, hazy. He toys with the edge of the little leather strap and Jimin arches his back, pressing the seam of his too-tight pants against Jeongguk's zipper, making him hiss through his teeth.
"Yeah." Jimin parrots. He leans forward to ghost his lips over Jeongguk's earlobe, hair brushing featherlight against his temple. "How about you show me where your room is?"
Jeongguk shivers— he turns his head and noses against Jimin’s cheek until Jimin turns his head to meet him, brushing their lips just barely, sweet strawberry and liquor mingling in the shared space. His cock throbs in his jeans and he knows Jimin is close enough that he can feel it, the swell of his ass full-on pressed over it. With a mischievous smirk he grinds his hips down, just barely, painfully slow, eyes going dark. Jeongguk is vaguely aware that they're in a room full of people but he can't find himself in it to care if they're giving them a show, too overwhelmed by the feeling of Jimin pressing in on every single one of his senses. He's so fucking intoxicating, even moreso than the alcohol and weed coursing through his veins.
He slides his hands under Jimin's thighs, standing up and bringing Jimin with him. Jimin giggles, wrapping his legs around Jeongguk's waist and winding his arms around his neck. There's dozens of eyes on them when they make their way through the small crowd at the back of the house and up the stairs leading to the bedrooms, but he doesn't give a fuck about what kind of things people are saying about them. There’s already enough rumors talking about how they must be hooking up— if anything Jeongguk is praying that after tonight there might actually be some truth to them.
It’s a miracle and a half that Jeongguk manages to not stumble and fall on his ass on the way up the stairs. Once they reach the landing where there's much less prying eyes and attention on them Jimin immediately surges forward, grabbing a handful of Jeongguk's shirt to drag the collar away from his neck, dipping his head to trace his collarbone with his tongue before sucking a bruise just above it. Jeongguk shivers at the thought of having Jimin's marks on him, hidden just below where everyone will be able to see them— one little slip of his shirt will reveal the tender bruise blooming beneath it.
Which— that's not something they've ever done before, marking each other— Jimin drags his lips over it and then pulls back to admire it with hazy eyes, a pleased little smile curling the corner of his lips. Within seconds he has his arms back around Jeongguk's neck and he's sucking his earlobe into his mouth, laving his tongue over the shell of his ear and working his hips up against Jeongguk's navel, the press of his cock unmistakably hard even trapped under his too-tight jeans.
"This one?" Jimin gasps against his ear, breath rolling cold over the damp skin. Jeongguk nods, letting Jimin reach down and grab the handle before Jeongguk kicks the bottom of the door to let them in, spinning to push Jimin up against it to slam it shut the second they're inside. Jimin unwinds his legs from Jeongguk's waist and drops to the ground, immediately pushing up on his tiptoes to bring their lips together in another kiss, wet and messy and tense with the promise of more to come.
Kissing Jimin is like the most addicting drug he's even taken— he thinks he'd never stop if he didn't have to. He gets lost in the feel of it, the way he flicks his tongue in the downright filthy way that never fails to make Jeongguk's toes curl, mind immediately going to how it would feel for him to do that against the head of his cock.
Jeongguk slots his thigh between Jimin's legs in the way he always does, pressing hard— Jimin mewls, throwing his head back and curling his hand into hairs at the base of Jeongguk's hair. And this is the way it always starts, the game they never finish playing.
Jeongguk licks a fat stripe up the side of Jimin's neck before grazing his teeth over his jawline, every little whine he drags from Jimin's saliva-slick lips jolting straight to his groin.
"What's it gonna take, huh?" Jeongguk mumbles into his skin, sealing the words with the slide of his tongue, tasting salt and cologne clinging to his skin. He slips his fingers underneath the leather strap straining around Jimin's thigh, hitching his leg up around him to give him better access to roll their hips together. "What's it gonna take for you to let me fuck you?"
"Thought you loved the chase," Jimin pants, hands sliding to Jeongguk's shoulders for leverage, pushing the collar of his shirt down to expose the golden, sweat-damp line of his neck. "What happened to taking your time?"
"You're a fucking tease is what happened." Jeongguk finds Jimin's lips again, crashing them together in a messy, wet kiss laced with intent. Jimin lets him lick into his mouth, easy, pliant; he likes to act like he's in control but Jeongguk can see how quickly he falls apart under his hands, is dying to see how much he shakes and writhes when split open on his cock. He shivers at the visual, a mess of precum dampening the front of his boxers.
"Am I teasing you right now?" Jimin's voice doesn't lose the mischievous lilt even as he grinds down on Jeongguk's clothed cock, words punctuated by filthy little moans that have Jeongguk going fucking crazy. "Seems like you have me exactly where you want me."
Jeongguk groans, not even able to think of a witty response. He just wants so badly it hurts — he grips harder around the leather strap, pulling Jimin impossibly closer. His other hand drops to Jimin's hip, fingers sliding up under his shirt to trace the line of skin above his waistband. Heat starts to pool behind his navel already, embarrassingly worked up from just this with all the past context of Jimin edging him over and over again across the last semester. He's always prided himself on his stamina, never thinking he was the type to come in his pants from dry humping like a dog in heat, but then again he didn't think a lot of things were possible before he met Jimin.
Their kiss turns sloppier, more desperate; Jimin's lips are all puffy and swollen under his and Jeongguk pulls back to trace them with the rigid tip of his tongue. Their eyes are both half-lidded and glassy and they stare at each other as they roll their hips, panting in the shared space between them.
They've never gone any further than this, and Jeongguk is already dreading the second Jimin decides it's time for them to call it quits. Jeongguk is so close he can practically taste his release on the tip of his tongue. He tries to tell himself it's different this time; Jimin had told them they were coming up here to release some tension. They're in Jeongguk's room, alone, with no risk of being caught or facing awkward walk of shame back home if they get a little messy. But part of him is already thinking ahead to the way Jimin always pulls away, running his hands through his messy hair and flashing a sweet little swollen-lipped smile with a sorry, I have to get home, let's finish this next time?
Jimin is needy tonight, though. He doesn't show any signs of stopping, much to Jeongguk's delight; he drags his lips down from his neck to his shoulder, leaving a slick trail of saliva in his wake, sucking another bruise into Jeongguk's skin. He hisses through his teeth and cools the spot when Jeongguk jerks harshly on the leather strap to hitch him up even higher, forcing him up on the tiptoes of his Chelsea boots and wrapping his leg around his waist. Jeongguk is grinding down onto him at a feverish pace, now, chasing his release, panting loudly in the room over the thundering boom of the bass outside. He's close, so, so close, and even if he doesn't get to fuck Jimin he still wants to be able to come with him pressed up against him, the the strawberry scent on his nose and the salt of his sweat on his tongue.
"You're so fucking flexible," Jeongguk growls, pressing their foreheads together.
"I'm a cheerleader," Jimin gasps cheekily. There's a high red flush on his cheeks and he looks so fucking wrecked— his cock drools another flood of precum and the string in his belly tightens nearly to snapping. "I can bend a hell of a lot more than this.”
"Oh yeah?" Jeongguk slips his fingers from where they're resting on Jimin's bare waist and circles them around to his navel, brushing through the thin happy trail disappearing down into his waistband. He thumbs at the button of his jeans, hesitating, asking— no, begging for permission.
Jimin hums, deliberating. Jeongguk's cock physically hurts with how bad he wants him, and the longer he stares at Jimin the more he's torturing himself with wondering how he must look naked, his tight little athletic cheerleader body tapering into the thickest part of his ass and his thighs that he wants wrapped around his head more than he wants to be alive.
"How about we make a deal?" Jimin says suddenly, his hazy eyes gaining some clarity, a flicker of mischief. He loosens his grip on Jeongguk's hair, pressing gently against his chest in a way that makes Jeongguk instantly still his hips. He has to hold back an actual sob, is fully prepared to get on his knees and beg if he has to. At this point he doesn't even care about getting himself off, he just wants Jimin any way he can have him. He'd be happy to suck Jimin's cock, let him fuck his throat, let him ride his face. Just the thought of having Jimin's legs spread over his lips has his mouth filling with saliva and he ruts his hips forward, biting back an involuntary moan.
"Anything," Jeongguk answers after a little bit too long. "Anything you want."
Jimin giggles but it's different from the way he usually sounds, low and gravely rather than pitched high with playfulness. He drags his nails over Jeongguk's cheek before tracing his thumb nail over his bottom lip, pausing on the little beauty mark he has there.
"Win the game this weekend. If you do, come find me after. I'll have a surprise for you."
Jeongguk blinks. He's so blindsided he doesn't even know what to say. "The game?"
"Mmm." Jimin pulls away, gently tugging at Jeongguk's wrist to make him unwind his hand from around the leather strap on his thigh. He hadn't realized how tightly he was holding it until he lets go— his hand hurts. He flexes it a few times, wincing, and then smooths it down the front of his shirt, wrinkled and damp with sweat.
"Jimin," Jeongguk groans. He lets his head crash back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut. He's so frustrated and worked up he feels like he might start whining and begging any second, has half a mind to shove his hand down the front of his pants and get himself off. "What did I ever do to you to deserve this level of torture?"
Jimin giggles. There's a pressure on his jaw and when he opens his eyes it's Jimin's hand gripping it as he leans closer, lips brushing his earlobe.
"You didn't do anything to me, frat boy," he says sweetly, sliding his palm down his jaw and loosely letting his fingers loop around the thickest part of his neck. The rings on his fingers are shockingly cool against his overheated skin. "Not yet, anyway."
Jimin pulls away all too quickly, stepping to the side and wrapping his hand around Jeongguk's door knob, pulling it open. The thundering bass of the party downstairs roars to life, but right before he leaves he fishes in his pocket to produce a brand new strawberry lollipop, taking a second to unwrap it before slipping it into his mouth. He pushes the wrapper into Jeongguk's hand, curling his fingers closed, and then he slips through the door.
The room is draped in muffled sound again when the door snaps shut behind him. Jeongguk stares down at the pink wrapper in his hand before wadding it up in frustration, tossing it on his dresser before pulling his shirt over his head as he heads toward the bathroom to take a cold shower, no longer interested in the party.
One thing is for sure: he's going to win that game even if it kills him.
The next week of practice is hell on earth.
Jimin is always there, like no matter where Jeongguk turns he's doing some kind of obscene stretching in his tiny little shorts and crop top that show way more skin than necessary. In fact, Jeongguk is ninety-nine percent sure that Jimin is wearing less clothing than usual on purpose just to make Jeongguk miserable. It certainly wouldn't be out of character.
His coach and teammates actually get so frustrated with him that they start getting on his case about being distracted when the big game is coming up soon. If Jimin wasn't head cheerleader for the very team Jeongguk plays for then he'd almost think he's trying to make sure their rivals win rather than them.
His frat throws parties almost every single night leading up to spring break, taking advantage of everyone making it through finals and having a lot of free time. Jeongguk is so exhausted he's not really in the mood to party but he still sits downstairs every single night, nursing a drink while he waits for Jimin to arrive.
Every day after practice he sticks around a little later than usual until both the football team and cheerleaders have left the field, taking extra time to pack his stuff up in the hopes that Jimin will take pity on him and drag him behind the bleachers like he would sometimes do.
In a few moments of desperation he actually shoots Jimin a text, something he doesn't often do. He asks what he's doing that night, if he still has finals (and if he needs a study partner) thinking maybe if he can get a conversation going then maybe Jimin will hang out with him. They don't even have to do anything. He just wants to be around him. Jimin has to at least reply, right?
Jeongguk wants to gnaw off his own arm.
Thoughts of Jimin consume him nearly every second of every hour of every day: Jimin in his skimpy little practice outfits. Jimin in his tight jeans with the leather strap wound around his thigh. Jimin underneath him, skin slicked with sweat and lips bitten red, mewling and panting as Jeongguk opens him up. He wonders if the pretty pink flush Jimin wears high on his cheeks when he gets worked up extends down to his chest, wonders which parts of his body are the most sensitive.
It's usually at night when his thoughts wander to the last one, after he's already tried (and failed) to sleep with increasing levels of frustration. It usually ends with him licking a stripe up his palm and shoving his hand down the front of his joggers, jerking his cock fast and hard with the image of Jimin stretching in his little shorts at the forefront of his mind.
It's a very difficult time for him.
But, of course, other than Jimin the biggest thing on his mind is the game. It's going to be a big one, the biggest his school has had in years— they're playing against their longtime rival school, and whichever team wins this year's final game will go down in college football history. Jeongguk might even be able to get an offer to go pro off this game alone if he manages to play well and network properly afterward. He would literally be set for life.
No pressure or anything.
Three days before the big game, their coach calls their final practice and the team goes out for a big dinner of steak and lobster with the liquor flowing freely on the team coordinator's tab. It's supposed to be an event to build team bonds or something like that, but really it's just an excuse for them to try and drink away the nerves that threaten to consume them knowing one of the most important games of their lives is coming up soon. Jeongguk is feeling particularly antsy, knowing that being the star player and quarterback means much of that pressure sits directly on his shoulders.
He's a little tipsy but not uncomfortably so when they finish, and so he decides to walk back to the frat house afterward in an attempt to blow off some steam. But he quickly regrets his decision about halfway through when he realizes how chilly it is, the crisp spring air piercing through the thin material of his simple joggers and Letterman jacket thrown over a thin t-shirt from his gym bag.
But then a banner flashes over the top of his phone screen, his text tone blaring a shrill beep that echoes over the abandoned street he's walking down. When he sees who it's from, his skin instantly heats up, mouth going dry.
Jimin: hey there frat boy
Jimin: got a minute?
Jeongguk: for you?
Jeongguk: a minute, an hour, as long as you want
Jimin: oh yeah? well that's convenient for me
Jimin: nervous about the big game?
Jimin: i've heard there's a lot at stake
Jeongguk: i wonder where you heard that
Jimin: i was talking about the actual stakes, not about our ours
Jimin: but while we're on the subject, that's actually why i decided to text you this evening :)
Jeongguk fumbles his phone and nearly drops it when he reads Jimin's last text. His body has an instant reaction to the words, blood pumping like lava and rushing straight down to his groin. Aside from loaded glances across the football field, Jeongguk hasn't had any interaction with Jimin for the better part of the week and then he comes out of nowhere with all this.
Classic Jimin, honestly. Always keeping him on his toes.
Jeongguk: oh yeah?
Jeongguk: are you finally gonna tell me what the surprise is when we win?
Jimin: oh i see
Jimin: when you win, not if
Jeongguk: are you hoping we don't win, jimin?
Jimin: if that's what you want to think
Jimin but back to what i was saying before...
Jimin: i'm not going to tell you what you get when you win
Jeongguk groans. He should have known Jimin was just teasing him some more. It was too good to be true.
But then his text tone rings out again and he glances down at the message.
Jimin: how about i show you instead?
Jeongguk: fuck jimin
Jeongguk: you already know my answer
Jimin doesn't respond for an excruciatingly long period of time. So long, in fact, that Jeongguk makes it all the way back to the frat house before he answers at all, obsessively checking his phone every few seconds the entire time he walks. And, okay, maybe he was walking a little bit faster than he was a few minutes ago, but he doesn't think anyone would blame him for that.
Once he gets upstairs and into his room he locks the door behind him, and rather than his usual routine of stripping off his clothes and hopping immediately in the shower he beelines for his bed and sits on the end of it, staring at his phone screen while he anxiously taps his fingers over the back of it.
He's starting to think Jimin isn't going to text him at all when his screen finally lights up with a new message.
Jimin: sorry about the wait
Jeongguk: i think this the first time you've apologized for making me wait
Jimin: quick response
Jimin: someone's eager
Jimin: where are you right now?
Jeongguk: sitting on my bed
Jimin: you've been so patient for me i thought you deserved a little reward
Jimin: and maybe something that will help you relax before the big game
Before Jeongguk can respond something flashes over the top of his screen.
Snapchat from Jimin!
He immediately taps the banner without any hesitation, but he realizes immediately that he probably should have taken a minute to brace himself for what it contains. Because the second he lays his eyes on the picture he's pretty sure he actually blacks out for the first ten seconds of the twenty second timer. The picture is of Jimin from behind taken in a mirror— he's bent over a desk so only his lower half is visible, bare feet curled into the carpet. But the most important, dizzying thing about the photo is what's hanging down over his thighs— just barely covering the swell of his ass is a little pleated skirt that Jeongguk recognizes as the girls' cheer uniform.
Jeongguk immediately scrambles to pull his joggers down, tucking them under his balls and hissing when he wraps his ice cold hand around his hot, heavy cock. He nearly drops his phone in his haste to replay the snap, thumbing through the precum drooling through his slit as he takes his time admiring it for his second look. He’d missed that wrapped around his bare thigh is a leather strap similar to the one he was wearing at the party, but this one is hooked with a little buckle instead of the silver heart. There's the faintest peek of his asscheeks from below the skirt, and though Jeongguk has seen Jimin's ass in spandex actually seeing a tease of the bare skin has him drooling, pumping his cock a few times with his fist before the snap inevitably ends and the screen goes black again.
Jimin: you replayed
Jimin: i take it that means you liked my little gift?
Jeongguk: that was a little gift?
Jeongguk: fuck jimin you're so
Jeongguk: are you wearing that right now?
Jimin: i got all dressed up just for you
Jimin: should i wear this on saturday after the game? oh, or maybe during the game would be more fun? unless you think that would be too distracting while you play?
Jeongguk: god you're driving me crazy
Jimin: oh, i know
Jimin: isn't that the point?
Jimin: show me
Jeongguk: show you?
Jimin: i want to see what i do to you
Jeongguk switches back over to Snapchat with shaky hands, idly pumping his cock a few more times. The visual of Jimin in the skirt is still fresh in his mind, so burned into him that he thinks it's all he's going to be able to think about for the rest of his life. Not that it would be the most horrible thing in the world. He takes a few photos before settling on one of him taken from the front, cock gripped in his hand with precum messily smeared over the tip.
Jimin has opened your snap!
Jimin has replayed your snap!
Jeongguk: now who's the one replaying?
Jimin: i was taken by surprise
Jimin: if i'd known you have such a huge cock maybe i would have let you fuck me sooner
Jeongguk: both of us know that's a lie
Jimin: what can i do, i like to tease
Jimin: and i haven't seen you complaining about it
Jeongguk: i have, in fact, been very loudly and frequently complaining about it
Jimin: i know your type, jeongguk
Jimin: once you get what you want you get bored
Jimin: the thrill is all in the chase
Jimin: am i wrong?
And… Jimin isn’t exactly wrong, Jeongguk does have a reputation on campus for being a fuckboy, and he’s definitely been known to jump around and have a lot of partners rather than having a solid arrangement with just one person. But it isn’t necessarily because he likes the chase, more that he hasn’t really found someone that catches his interest for more than a few hookups. He’s not opposed to commitment, he just hasn’t found a reason to commit. There’s a difference, he thinks. Subtle, but there.
Jeongguk: you’re different
He hits send before he has time to think about the implications of his message. It’s a very bizarre moment of clarity: he’s sitting there with his cock in his hand while having some sort of realization about how he feels about Jimin. Because, sure, the ridiculous sexual tension they have between them is the thing that connects them, but Jeongguk can’t help but feel like there’s something else there. Like maybe if he were able to pick it apart, to remove the lust from the equation and really focus on his thoughts there’s some more complexity behind the reasons he’s so hung up on Jimin that extend beyond just he’s hot and I want to fuck him. There’s something there that makes him different, that makes Jeongguk want to pursue him to the point where he hasn’t given up or had any other sexual partners even after months of getting nowhere. With anyone else, Jeongguk would have gotten bored and given up a long time ago.
Jimin: that’s cute, but it’s not going to get you in my pants any faster
Jimin: you’ve been patient for this long, you can wait a little longer
Jimin: since you’ve been so patient, i have a little parting gift
Jimin: wanna see?
Jeongguk is sort of reeling from his semi-coherent realization but he’s also still ridiculously horny and he thinks maybe a little bit of post-nut clarity will give him more room to think about things. Or at least that’s what he tells himself when he types his next message.
Jeongguk: fuck, yes
Snapchat from Jimin!
It’s a similar angle as the first photo but the camera is dropped a little lower and Jimin’s back is a little more arched— the lower half of his ass is completely exposed, now, fat and perky all at once, probably the most perfect fucking thing Jeongguk has ever seen in his entire life. He starts stroking his cock in earnest, already so worked up from the teasing and the last picture that he can feel himself getting close embarrassingly fast— but then he notices something he hadn’t been able to see before, a little flash of pink peeking out from under the hem of his skirt.
He brings the phone closer to his face so he can see it more clearly, and sure enough there is something there: nestled between his cheeks is the tip of a shiny pink plug, the skin around his hole slick and wet with lube.
Jeongguk bites his fist to stop himself from crying out as he comes hard all over his hand, hips jolting off the bed with the force of it— he comes an obscene amount, so much it drips all over his hand and onto his navel, some of it even splattered over his knee.
It takes him a second to come down from his orgasm but once he does he realizes with a jolt that he’d disappeared even though he saw Jimin sending him texts while he was finishing himself off. He lurches for his phone, which had fallen onto the carpet near his feet at some point during the last minute or so.
Jimin: i’ll take your disappearance as a good thing
Jimin: i’m going to bed
Jimin: glad you enjoyed the sneak peek
Jimin: can’t wait for saturday
Jimin: hope you win :)
Jeongguk: oh trust me
Jeongguk: i’m gonna win
Jeongguk honestly hadn’t really considered this outcome: for some reason he just assumed they would win, had thought that everything was already spelled out in the stars or something and he was destined to win this game and get everything he wanted. He was going to secure an offer to go pro before even entering his senior year and walk out of the stadium with Jimin on his arm and his name in the college football history books.
It’s a low low.
He isn’t really sure how to deal with it.
His team tries to stay in high spirits but naturally most of them are very disappointed. There’s a lot of we’ll get them next time and it’s okay, Jeongguk, you still have one more year, knowing this defeat probably hits him the hardest.
Jeongguk had purposefully forced himself to not focus on Jimin during the game, not even spending halftime watching the cheerleaders do their routine even though he’d wanted to see it because he knew how hard they worked on it. He figured there would be lots of videos that he could watch later, and the risk of getting distracted was too high. So the first time he sees Jimin for the entire evening is after the game ends when most of his team has already headed back to their dorms and apartments to finish packing their things, preparing to head back home for the break until fall rolls around again and they’d come back and do it all over again, most of them for the last time.
He catches Jimin’s eyes across the field and gets a pained, apologetic smile and wave in return. It’s different from the way Jimin usually looks at him and something about it kind of hurts, realizing that Jimin probably doesn’t have any interest in him anymore now that he let his entire school down. Which, realistically he knows it’s kind of dramatic to think that way because his team still had a record-breaking season culminating in a very closely tied game against their biggest rivals which is an accomplishment in and of itself, but he can’t help but feel like really dropped the ball and failed in a huge way.
Taehyung treats him to dinner before dropping him back off at the frat house. He isn’t heading back home for a few more days still because his parents are on vacation and he’d rather stay here with the few friends who live around campus during the summer than sit around in an empty house, especially when he’s already feeling pretty low.
When he arrives Namjoon is sitting on the couch with his nose in a book, typical for him, but the second Jeongguk opens the door he gives him a pained smile similar to the one Jimin had given him.
“Sorry about the game,” he says. “Next year will be better. Don’t beat yourself up too much.”
Jeongguk winces, waving him off in a way that he hopes isn’t rude.
“I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” he says, trudging up the staircase with his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He’d already showered the game off in the locker room and put his football uniform in his bag, choosing to throw on a simple long sleeved t-shirt and a pair of black joggers for the walk back home. At some point he thinks he lost his Letterman jacket, almost positive he’d taken it to the game with him, but he probably just left it at home in his haste to leave earlier that morning.
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to distract yourself,” Namjoon says airily. The statement strikes Jeongguk as odd because there’s definitely not anything fun to do in this city during the summer— everything revolves around college life and as such the bars and restaurants are all boring and empty at this time of year. It’s really depressing. Maybe he’ll catch up on some of the video games he’s been neglecting in favor of studies and sports.
He cracks his door open and kicks his shoes off, dropping his gym bag on top of them, flipping on his light and heading toward the bed so he can lay there for a while and contemplate his life choices or something.
But when the light flickers on he stops dead in his tracks, lips parting in surprise.
“Hey there, frat boy.”
Jimin looks like he stepped straight out of his most frantic fantasies: he’s sitting on the edge of Jeongguk’s bed with his legs delicately crossed at the knee, the short, barely-there plaid cheerleading skirt sitting high up on his waist under a white crop top, the hem just barely brushing the tops of his thighs. But what really gets Jeongguk, what really makes his skin heat up and his mouth go dry is the fact that his own Letterman jacket is hanging low around Jimin’s shoulders, so big on his dainty little frame that it nearly swallows him up. The sleeves bunch around his hands, the only visible part being the tips of his tiny fingers gripping his signature lollipop stick, candy sliding slick over his lips.
“I,” Jeongguk says.
“I know we had a deal,” Jimin says, words slow and unhurried. He uncrosses his legs and slides one foot underneath himself, dropping the hand not holding the lollipop down to his thigh wrapped with the black leather buckled harness. The Letterman jacket slides further off his shoulder, golden skin catching the soft light from Jeongguk’s lamp. “But I thought maybe you’ve already suffered enough. Maybe I can help cheer you up?”
Jeongguk blinks at him. He sort of thinks maybe he’s having some sort of extremely elaborate fever dream. Did he get sick? Did he get hit by a car on his way home? If he knew this was what awaited him in the afterlife maybe he wouldn’t have been so afraid of his own mortality.
The strawberry sucker clinks against Jimin’s teeth when he slides it over his cheek, cocking his head. A lock of platinum hair falls over his eyes.
“So?” He asks. “What are you waiting for?”
Jeongguk doesn't need to be told twice. He surges forward, tugging his t-shirt over his head and tossing it in the corner of his room.
“God, I’ve been thinking about this for months,” Jeongguk rasps just before he crashes their lips together with enough force to push Jimin back on the bed, caging his smaller frame with his larger one. Jimin giggles into the kiss, winding his arms around his neck and parting his lips easily to slide their tongues together. The sweet strawberry candy on Jimin’s tongue bursts to life, making Jeongguk salivate and turning the kiss messier, wetter; he drags his saliva-slick lips down to Jimin’s jaw, nipping at it with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. “Gonna make you wish you never made me wait.”
Jimin arches his back into a pretty curve, making the skirt ride up higher over his thighs. Jeongguk slides his hands down Jimin’s body, dipping under the letterman jacket to trace his waist before roaming down to his thighs, pausing to toy with the hem of his skirt as he explores every inch of exposed skin above his shirt with his tongue. Even as long as he’s been waiting he still wants to take his time, wants to savor him— wants to commit the way he feels and tastes to memory until it’s burned into his tongue, wants to worship him the way he deserves to be.
“Ah, Jeongguk,” Jimin gasps, huffing when Jeongguk nips at his collarbone. “Feels good.”
The fact that Jimin is letting Jeongguk touch him like this, giving him the privilege, is something Jeongguk refuses to take for granted.
“I’ll make you feel so good, baby,” Jeongguk gasps, pushing his hand up into Jimin’s shirt, rolling his nipple between the pads of his fingers. Jimin gasps, arching up off the bed, hair fanning prettily over the sheets like a halo around his head. “Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. Anything.”
“Oh yeah?” The smile on Jimin’s lips shines through in his tone. “Do you wanna know why I made you wait for so long, Jeongguk?”
“We’ve gone over this,” Jeongguk mumbles into his skin. He pushes the crop top further up his chest to expose both nipples, soft and pink, hardening under the chill of the air conditioner. “Because you wanted me to go fucking crazy.”
“You’re not— ah, fuck—” Jimin mewls like a kitten when Jeongguk attaches his lips to Jimin’s nipple and sucks, a high sweet noise that jolts straight down to his cock. “You’re not completely wrong.”
Jeongguk pulls off to switch to the other nipple, taking a second to admire his handiwork. His nipple is all hard and wet, puffy and red from his mouth. Jimin looks so fucking pretty when he’s a little messed up. “Not completely ?”
“I wanted to make you— ah, fuck, flick your tongue like that again— wanted to make you snap,” he admits, hissing through his teeth when Jeongguk grazes his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Wanted to make sure you were s-so worked up that when you can finally have me you’d fucking ruin me.”
Jeongguk groans, pulling off Jimin’s nipple with a little pop and a smear of saliva and sliding his hands down to his waist, admiring how dainty his frame is, the way Jeongguk’s hands are so big on him that he can wrap his hands almost all the way around. He imagines how it would feel to hold him like that up off the bed while he fucking into him, feeling the way Jimin’s muscles flex under his fingers.
“I’ll ruin you.” Jeongguk says, dragging his eyes down to admire the way the skirt falls down over his thighs, the pretty black line of the leather cuff against his flawless, creamy skin. It’s a promise, words loaded with confidence. “I’ll fuck you until you beg me to stop— gonna make you think about me every time you try to walk for days.”
“Fuck.” Jimin shivers, His hands twitch against the bedsheets, curling his hands around the cuffs of Jeongguk’s Letterman jacket. “Your cock is so fucking big— been thinking about it so much.” He wraps one of his legs around Jeongguk’s back, sliding his socked foot over his waist. “I fucked myself with my thickest toy and imagined it was you— plugged myself up afterward and sent you those pictures while my cock was still all messy with cum.”
Jeongguk is fucking dizzy with Jimin’s words, dragging his eyes all over Jimin’s body and admiring the view as he does, feeling like he’s entered some kind of alternate reality where he’s the luckiest man alive. Jimin is a vision, prettier than aphrodite, something that belongs in a museum— he’s delighted to find out that the pretty pink flush that sits high up on his cheeks extends all the way down to his chest and even colors his elbows and knees, delicate pastel rose against creamy white.
“I feel like I’m dreaming,” Jeongguk admits out loud before his mouth catches up to his brain.
“You’re not,” Jimin promises, lifting a hand to drag his nails over Jeongguk’s neck before pausing to press his thumb against his pulse point. He smiles devilishly when he feels how fast Jeongguk’s heart is beating, flicking his tongue out to wet his lips. “You know, you can stare at me all night if you want, but the least you can do is let me suck your cock while you do it.”
“Oh.” Jeongguk squeezes his hands around Jimin’s waist, pulling back the slightest bit. He realizes he’s been staring for what is probably an absurdly long amount of time, and once he comes back to himself it’s like everything floods back to him at once— the warmness of Jimin’s skin under his hands, the way his cock is already sitting hard and heavy between his legs, the front of his joggers damp with precum. “Yeah. Fuck, come here— Get on your knees.”
Jimin lets Jeongguk pull him up off the mattress by his waist, setting him delicately on the floor where he sits prettily on his heels and folds his hands in his lap, cocking his head and watching as Jeongguk arranges himself at the foot of the bed— he’s impatient, though, already clawing at the waistband of Jeongguk’s sweats the second he’s sitting.
His cock springs free with a wet slap against his belly. Jimin licks his lips, eyes widening as he takes it in, dripping with awe and reverence and want, the pink flush on his cheeks darkening. He doesn’t hesitate to push forward on the balls of his feet, circling his fingers around the thickest part at the base of his cock.
Jeongguk gasps, hips jerking up off the bed— it’s the first time Jimin has touched him like this and it’s more of a shock to his system than he realized it would be, grounding him back in reality. It’s the first taste of this is really fucking happening that he’s gotten so far, the feeling of Jimin’s warm hand wrapped around his length.
“You’re even bigger in person,” Jimin whines. Jeongguk realizes with a groan that Jimin’s small hand can hardly even wrap all the way around his cock, fingers barely meeting even when he stretches them. “God, I want you to fuck me so bad. Nothing’s ever big enough for me, even my biggest toys— I like it when it hurts, wanna be split apart.”
“You’re gonna kill me,” Jeongguk gasps. He watches as Jimin plays with the precum oozing from his slit, pulling his fingers away to let it stretch in thin, sticky strands that he smears around his cockhead, pumping it a few times to aid the slide of his palm.
“Just as long as you don’t die before you fuck me we’re good,” Jimin teases and Jeongguk swats him on the arm, earning him a giggle.
“Thought you were the one who wanted to get the show on the road and suck me off,” Jeongguk says, pushing his hips up into Jimin’s fist. “I wanna see how pretty your lips look stretched out over my cock.”
Jimin hums like he’s deliberating; he presses his chest to the end of the bed and angles Jeongguk’s cock down to smear the head messily over his lips, coating them in milky white. The first press of Jimin’s velvety lips has Jeongguk hissing, cock jerking in Jimin’s hand and drooling more precum onto his face that dribbles down the corner of his mouth and down his chin.
“I want you to make me,” Jimin says, pouting. When he speaks the thin strands of Jeongguk’s precum stretch obscenely between his lips and Jeongguk bites his lip, heart leaping up into his throat. Jimin is so fucking hot he isn’t sure how he’s going to survive tonight. Maybe he won’t. “I told you I want you to snap. I want you to force my head down, fuck my throat, ruin me. I don’t want you to be gentle, I don’t want you to be kind, I want you to fuck me like a slut.”
God, Jimin is a fucking wet dream as a person. And if he wants Jeongguk to snap, that’s exactly what he’ll do. Jimin deserves to get fucked the way he needs, the way he deserves.
He grips a hand in Jimin’s hair close to the scalp, so hard Jimin hisses at the burn. His eyes roll back in his head and he actually looks relaxed, lighter, like Jeongguk is finally giving him what he wants. He makes a pretty, high-pitched sound, letting his lips drop open so Jeongguk can force his head down on his cock, pushing him halfway down on it in one motion. It makes him nearly choke but he takes Jeongguk’s cock like a champ, relaxing his throat so he doesn’t choke, suffocated moans creeping up his throat and vibrating his mouth in a way that has Jeongguk gasping and tightening his grip in Jimin’s hair.
“Is this what you wanted?” He feels the strain of Jimin’s head frantically trying to nod, held still by Jeongguk’s firm grip on his hair. He pushes him down even deeper, inch by inch, letting Jimin adjust to the slide until his mouth is fully seated on his cock, strawberry lips stretched obscenely around the base and a mess of drool and precum dripping messily down his chin and over Jeongguk’s balls. “To choke on my cock? For me to force you to choke on my cock? To have all your filthy little holes stretched open and stuffed full?”
“Mm,” Jimin moans around his cock in frantic agreement, all he can do with his mouth full of cock. He fists his hand in Jeongguk’s sweats until his knuckles are white. He’s straining against Jeongguk’s hand to try to force his head down even more.
“Fucking cockslut,” Jeongguk says and Jimin moans, tightening his grip on Jeongguk’s sweats. “Only been sucking me off for a few minutes and you already want me to fuck your throat? Is that what you want, baby?”
Jimin’s eyes flash up to his. They’re pleading.
I want you to snap. I want you to ruin me. I want you to fuck me like a slut.
Jeongguk forces Jimin’s head down until his nose is pressed into the neatly trimmed patch of hair at the base of his cock and he full-on gags, squeezing the tip of his cock in a way that makes Jeongguk cry out and toss his head back. Jimin’s mouth is so fucking wet, hot, the back of his throat small and tight. He takes it so well, gagging and swallowing down the precum that drips from Jeongguk’s slit while also controlling the pressure of his lips and sliding the flat of his tongue up and down the shaft to add pressure.
Jimin untangles his hand from Jeongguk’s sweats and slips it between his legs to cup his balls, gently rolling them over his palm and between his fingers. He’s still looking up at Jeongguk with his pretty, sharply angled eyes, lashes threaded with tears that are starting to well up and drip down the apples of his cheeks from his throat being fucked. He looks so pretty gagging on his cock that Jeongguk can’t even believe he’s real.
His first orgasm is already coming on quickly so he picks up his pace, chasing release— he knows it’s a little early to come but he wants to take the edge off fast so he can recover quickly and fuck Jimin the way he deserves to be fucked later— he picks up the pace, planting his feet on the floor and working his hips up to fuck Jimin’s throat faster, holding his head still. The noises filling the room are straight up obscene, the slick sloppy slide of his cock pushing into Jimin’s pliant mouth and the wet gagging every time he hits the back of his throat— Jeongguk’s gasps and groans, loud and rhythmic. His hand is fisted in the back of Jimin’s hard so hard it must hurt but Jimin looks so blissed and fucked out like having Jeongguk’s cock forced down his throat is the only thing he’s ever wanted, little moans vibrating through his chest that don’t have a chance to escape with the brutal pace of Jeongguk’s cock fucking into his mouth.
Tears start full-on running down the pink of Jimin’s cheeks, tinged with the slight grey of his mascara. He’s a fucking vision.
“Gonna c-come,” Jeongguk gasps, shuddering. “Where do you want me to come, baby? Down your throat?”
Jimin pinches Jeongguk’s thigh to signal him to pull out and Jeongguk instantly lets go of Jimin’s hair, letting him pull himself off with an obscene pop and a huge gasp that sucks all the air out of the room. Jeongguk is worried for a second that he’d taken it too far and hurt him but Jimin doesn’t even miss a beat before he’s leaning forward, angling with his mouth open wide under Jeongguk’s cock and his tongue sticking out.
“On my face,” he gasps. “On my face, hurry, please—”
Jeongguk takes himself in his hand and jerks his cock with quick, short strokes, grunting as he feels the heat pool in his groin and then snap— and he’s coming, drenching Jimin’s tongue and chin in creamy white. Jimin is moaning like he’s the one coming, tears still streaming down his face and hands fisted into the hem of his skirt.
“Tastes so good,” Jimin says. His voice is cracked and broken from abuse. “God, so fucking good.”
Once Jeongguk has milked himself of every drop of his release he pushes his softening cock against Jimin’s lips, smearing it through his own release before dragging it up to the apples of Jimin’s cheeks, wiping away the grey tear tracks. Jimin waits patiently as he does it, mouth still hanging open with Jeongguk’s cum pooled on his tongue, eyes wide and unblinking. The second Jeongguk shoves his cock back in Jimin’s mouth he shivers around it, eagerly lapping up Jeongguk’s release tinged with his own tears.
“So fucking perfect,” Jeongguk says. “Come here.”
Jimin crawls up onto Jeongguk’s lap, pushing his finger against his bottom lip just like he had the night they’d shotgunned at the frat party— Jeongguk parts them easily and then Jimin is hovering over him, dripping his cum mixed with Jimin’s tears into his mouth. It’s salty and bitter but tinged with the candied strawberry sweetness of Jimin’s mouth— it’s so fucking dirty it has Jeongguk’s cock already stirring back to attention. Jeongguk surges up and presses their lips together, tongues meeting messily in the center and twisting around the come and tears, passing them between each other before swallowing it all down.
“Are you even real, huh?” Jeongguk asks when they pull away, dragging his fingers through the mess on Jimin’s chin and then dropping his hands to his thighs, pushing up under his skirt and letting the fabric pool around his wrists. “Wanna fuck you so bad.”
“Please,” Jimin says, squeezing his knees around Jeongguk’s thighs.
“But first, want you to ride my face until I get hard again.” He strokes his fingers over Jimin’s thighs, tender, gentle. “Gonna make you come riding my tongue and then I’ll fuck you open until you’re screaming on my cock like a messy slut.”
Jimin shivers, already nodding his head and frantically pushing at Jeongguk’s shoulders to lay him flat on his back. He climbs up over his chest, planting his knees on either side of Jeongguk’s arms. His cock is only inches from his face like this, giving Jeongguk a perfect view up his skirt— he’s made a mess of himself, precum dripping in thick rivulets down his cock, flushed in the same pretty pink color of his cheeks and knees.
“I must have saved a galaxy in my past life,” Jeongguk muses out loud, making Jimin giggle. He grips the back of Jimin’s thighs to pull him up closer to his face and Jimin squeals in surprise, falling forward and planting his palms into the mattress. He slides his hands up the back of his thighs and cups his cheeks, groaning at how the fat, pillowy globes of his ass fit so perfectly in his palms. He spreads his cheeks apart, revealing the same pastel pink plug that had been nestled between his cheeks in the photos Jimin had sent him the other night.
Jeongguk flicks at the end of the plug, ripping a gasp from Jimin’s chest. “Already fingered myself open for you,” he admits. “D-did it on your bed before you came home— thought about everything I wanted you to do to me but didn’t let myself come.”
“What did you think about?” Jeongguk asks, pinching the end of the plug— it’s shaped like a fucking heart — between his fingers and twisting it. Jimin shudders, knees slipping over the sheets.
“Thought about this.” Jimin says, panting. “Thought about riding y-your face, and then you bending me over and fucking me from behind while you called me a whore.”
“You are a whore,” Jeongguk says easily and the reaction Jimin has to it is instant, the way his cock jerks up against his skirt and Jimin gasps and shivers, gripping at the sheets. “You know what whores do?”
“Ride my tongue until you come.” Jeongguk pulls the plug an inch out and then plunges it deeper, fucking it into Jimin’s lube-slicked hole. “If you can do that, then I’ll fuck you just like you imagined.”
Jimin inhales deeply and then exhales, shaky. “Yeah,” he gasps. “Fuck, yeah, okay.”
Jeongguk idly plays with the plug for a few more seconds until Jimin huffs in frustration, trying to pull up to force Jeongguk to pull the plug out of his ass. “Stop teasing me,” he whines.
“Payback.” Jeongguk replies cheekily, making Jimin roll his eyes. But he’s not about to make either of them wait much longer, not with how long he’s been fantasizing about having Jimin sitting on his face.
Jimin’s hole flutters around nothing when he finally slides the plug loose. Pink-tinted lube oozes from inside of him and drips onto Jeongguk’s bottom lip— it smells sweet so he darts his tongue out to taste it.
He tosses the plug aside, shoving his hands up under Jimin’s skirt to grip his thighs and force him down onto his face. Jimin sinks onto his mouth like he’s meant to sit there, lining his hole up with Jeongguk’s mouth and grinding down on it as if he would his cock. The first lick of Jeongguk’s tongue against his rim has Jimin gasping and mewling already, a sweet sound that echoes off the walls.
If fucking Jimin’s throat was a religious experience this is somehow even better; Jimin is so fucking loud in the way he shows pleasure, so responsive to everything Jeongguk does— he curls his tongue to run his tongue around his rim and then slides in as deep as he can go without aid from his fingers. Jimin trembles, grinding his hips down in small circles, chasing the hot, wet feeling of Jeongguk’s tongue.
“Jeongguk, Jeongguk, Jeongguk.” Jimin is chanting, so far gone— his fingers scramble for purchase against the bedsheets. “Deeper, more, please.”
Jeongguk spreads his cheeks wider, rubbing his thumb against his entrance and pushing the tip of his thumb in next to his tongue, opening him up so he can push his tongue deeper inside. Jimin moans desperately, working his hips faster— he grinds down on Jeongguk’s tongue, babbling— yes, just like that, just like that— fuck so wet, so hot, so fucking good.
His knees squeeze Jeongguk’s head, hard and trembling like he’s trying to crush it. He pushes up off his hands to sit straight up on Jeongguk’s face, the Letterman jacket falling full off his shoulders and pooling around his hands that he curls into the hem of his skirt as he grinds down on Jeongguk’s tongue and fingers around dry sobs. He’s breathtaking from this angle— well, Jimin is breathtaking from any angle but he’s particularly striking like this, the sheen of sweat on his bare shoulders and navel shining under the golden light of Jeongguk’s lamp, cock bobbing underneath his skirt and smearing precum all over the hem.
“Wanna come so bad.” Jimin arches his back as Jeongguk drags his tongue down his hole, chest rising and falling with long, labored breaths. “Can’t come like this, Jeongguk, please, need you to touch my cock—”
Jeongguk hooks his fingers around the leather strap on Jimin’s thigh and tugs on it, making Jimin spread his legs wider and sink even further down on his face until Jeongguk can hardly even breathe, a silent way of telling him if you want to come then ride my face harder. And Jimin full-on whines, loud and high pitched, thighs shaking violently like he’s struggling to even hold himself upright anymore. He tangles his hands into his own hair and tugs at the strands in frustration, working his hips messier, more frantically— it’s so wet, so messy, strawberry lube mixed with saliva coating the entire lower half of Jeongguk’s face.
He’s chasing, chasing, chasing — Jeongguk presses his thumb deeper, all the way up to the curve of his hand, stroking and massaging his walls as he works his tongue deeper in beside it.
“Oh, fuck—” Jimin suddenly shouts. “I’m— I’m right there. Right there— please, please, I just need a little more, just a little more — something, anything.” He’s babbling, rhythm faltering in his panic, his desperation to get off. He curls his hands in Jeongguk’s hair and forces his head up as he fucks down onto his face, gasping, pleading, messy sobbing—
and then finally he’s coming with a shout, back arching in a curve that looks almost painful, cock spurting white that hits his skirt and drips down onto Jeongguk’s face. His bitten lips are open in a silent scream, eyes screwed shut, hole clenching around Jeongguk’s tongue as he rides it out, babbling a mixture of Jeongguk’s name mixed with curses.
Jeongguk lets Jimin come down before he folds his legs back to push him off his face, tossing him back on the bed in a way that makes Jimin bounce, eyes post-orgasm blissed and hazy. Jeongguk’s been ready for round two for what feels like forever, cock hard and heavy between his legs. Jimin presses his thighs together, smearing the mess of lube and cum between them, watching as Jeongguk reaches down to pump his cock a few times.
“Oh,” Jimin says, words slurred. He lights up suddenly when he realizes what’s happening, eyeing Jeongguk’s cock with interest. “Finally gonna fuck me?”
Jeongguk doesn’t even answer, just climbs over Jimin’s body and parts his legs with his knee, shoving his skirt up over his thighs. He gathers some of the mess dripping from Jimin’s hole and uses it to slick himself up, lining his hips up and pressing his cockhead against Jimin’s puffy, swollen entrance.
Jimin squirms, already trying to fuck himself down on Jeongguk’s cock the second he feels him press up against him— Jeongguk is fucking baffled at how insatiable he is, already desperate to get fucked not even two minutes after he’d just come— he’s babbling again already, fuck me, fuck me, god I’ve been wanting this so bad, fill me up—
Jeongguk pushes all the way in to the hilt in one swift motion— Jimin’s entire body tenses from the stretch, a line appearing between his eyebrows and the muscles in his abdomen tensing from the burn— Jeongguk waits a second to let him adjust, moving his hips in smooth circles to help him get used to the stretch.
“God, you’re so fucking big, fill me up so good — ah, no one has ever filled me like this before—” Jimin gasps. “Move, please, fuck me.”
Jeongguk pulls out slowly and then slams back in with the lewd slap of his balls against Jimin’s ass. Jimin cries out, digging his nails into Jeongguk’s sweat-slicked shoulders to hold himself steady to Jeongguk can pick up the pace, fucking into him over and over, each thrust ripping a string of pretty sounds and swears from Jimin’s chest like music to Jeongguk’s ears.
“You’re so fucking tight around my cock,” Jeongguk groans. “Fucking incredible, how are you even real.”
He pushes his hands to the back of Jimin’s thighs and practically folds him in half, using the leather strap around his thigh to hold his ass up off the bed to fuck even deeper. He can tell when he angles his hips just right and hits Jimin’s prostate because he starts full-on squealing, eyes rolling into the back of his head and fingers twisting into the bedsheets so hard he rips them off the corners of the mattress.
“Feel so full,” Jimin’s voice sounds hazy, like he’s on another planet. “J-just a little more and I’m gonna— fuck, gonna come again—”
“Already?” Jeongguk asks, picking up the pace until he’s fucking into Jimin almost brutally, hitting his prostate full-on with every slam of his hips. “You really are a fucking slut, already came on my tongue and now my cock— how greedy are you? How many times are you gonna come before you’re fucking satisfied?”
Jimin tosses his head back when Jeongguk slams into him particularly hard, pushing him halfway up the bed; he slaps a hand over his mouth to muffle his cries but Jeongguk growls, ripping it away and pinning it over his head
“Let me hear every noise I fuck out of you,”
“J-Jeongguk can you please— can you—”
“Can I?” Jeongguk is prepared to do whatever the fuck Jimin wants at this point. Anything.
“Hit me,” Jimin gasps quickly, as if he’s embarrassed to even breathe the words to life. “Fucking— please. Slap me, I’m so so so close, fucking slap me—”
Jeongguk hesitates for a second but he sees the look in Jimin’s eyes, so desperate, pleading, needing it— he draws his hand back and slaps him full on the cheek, not hard enough to leave a mark but just enough to make Jimin gasp, eyes flying wide.
“N-no, harder.” Jimin is squirming as he whines. “Hit me harder. Hard enough to leave a mark, make it hurt.”
“Alright. Okay, ah— fuck, Jimin,” Jeongguk pants. He brings his hand down again, slapping Jimin hard enough to jerk his face to the side, leaving a faint pink mark on his cheek with a crisp sound that rings out into the room.
“Yes!’ Jimin’s spine goes rigid and his hole clenches around Jeongguk’s cock. “Yes, yes, j-just like that— ‘m so close.”
“Still not coming for me? Even when I’m slapping you around like a fucking whore?” Jeongguk winds his arm back and slaps him again, and again, and Jimin sobs as his body goes taut before he starts trembling and shaking, tears streaming down his cheeks as he comes untouched for the second time, cum flooding from his cock in thick ropes that shoot up to his chest, covering the hem of Jeongguk’s jacket and draping over the pleats in his skirt.
Jimin’s cock is still rock hard, purpled at the tip and so swollen it looks like it must hurt with how badly it wants to be touched.
Jeongguk pulls out before Jimin even finishes riding out his orgasm and Jimin panics, scrambling against the sheets. “W-wait, don’t wanna be empty,” he gasps. “Put it back, keep fucking me.”
“Shh, baby, I’m not done with you yet,” Jeongguk promises. He dips his head to press their lips together in a kiss, probably too gentle and tender for all they’re doing right now, but even despite everything Jeongguk wants Jimin to know he’s appreciated, being cared for. “Flip over.”
Jimin’s eyes are shiny when he pulls away from the kiss and he nods, rolling over onto his stomach. Jeongguk slides off the back of the bed and plants his feet on the ground, pulling Jimin by the calves to the end of the bed and bending him over the edge, pressing a hand down on the small of his back to keep him steady as he slides his cock back inside.
“Fuck, look at you,” Jeongguk says when he slides in. “Came twice already and you’re still greedy for more. Insatiable little cumslut.”
He pulls out and slams back in, Jimin’s sloppy hole sucking him in like he was made to take his cock. Jimin shakes from oversensitivity but still takes his cock so well, socked toes scrambling against the carpet for purchase but not finding from the way Jeongguk is holding him up against the bed. He fucks into Jimin’s hole, watching the way the hem of the skirt bounces against the thickest part of his ass every time he snaps his hips forward.
"Fill me," Jimin gasps, so far gone, drooling onto the bed below. "When are you g-gonna fill me up?”
"Soon, baby. You're gonna look so pretty all filled up with my cum," Jeongguk says, punctuating his words with harsh slams of his hips that make Jimin's ass jiggle. "I'm gonna fill you up so good it spills out of your hole and drips all down your thighs, making you look just like the messy little slut you are."
"Oh— fuck, Jeongguk," Jimin says weakly. His voice is raspy from overuse but still has the pretty, sing-songy lilt to it that it always does. Jeongguk bites down on his lip and groans, jerking his hips forward as he slides his hands further up Jimin's thighs, under the skirt, letting the fabric pool over his wrists. "S-so big — god, your cock is so perfect, fucking made for me, fucking spoiling me with it."
Jeongguk strokes his thumbs over Jimin's ass as he fucks into him, mesmerized by how pretty he looks underneath him, tanned back curved into a perfect arch, his messy, bleached blonde hair damp with sweat and mussed from Jeongguk's fingers. "I'll make sure my cock is the only thing you can think about when you get off, how's that sound? Gonna fuck you so good, so deep, that I ruin you for anything and anyone else."
"Already have," Jimin pants. "N-no one can fuck me like this, only you Jeongguk, o-only you, mmh— God, when are you gonna come inside me? I n-need it, I want you to fill me so bad, wanna be full and dripping and warm."
“Messy little cumslut,” Jeongguk rasps. He slaps Jimin full on the fattest part of his ass and Jimin jerks in surprise before moaning, pressing his forehead down into the mattress. A pretty pink mark in the shape of Jeongguk’s hand blooms against his skin.
“Yeah,” Jimin breathes. “Fucking love it, can’t wait to feel you come inside.”
A few more thrusts and Jeongguk can feel his release creeping up fast— he digs the pads of his fingers into the meat of Jimin’s ass, focusing on the sight of the little pleated skirt and the overwhelmed tremble of his legs, and before long he’s coming with a shout, spilling hot and deep into Jimin’s hole and fucking it into him until Jimin has milked him clean of every drop.
The noises Jimin makes as he comes inside are filthy— he's mewling, gasping, begging for more— "Please, Jeongguk, want more, feels s-so good, so hot, ‘m so full.”
The second Jeongguk finishes coming he slips his cock out, earning a whine from Jimin— he's grinding against the mattress, chasing another orgasm with his forehead pressed into the sheets, weakly murmuring Jeongguk's name and senseless pleas. Jeongguk drops to the ground and spreads Jimin's ass, watching the way his cum is already slowly leaking out of his hole, rolling down his inner thigh.
He laps up the drop, tracing the path up to Jimin's puffy, abused hole, so messy and wet. Jimin gasps when he feels the first press Jeongguk's tongue against his rim, licking his own release out of him.
"O-oh, Jeongguk, that's—" Jimin trembles, grinding his cock against the mattress. "That's f-filthy, fuck."
Jeongguk reaches around and takes Jimin's cock in his hand, jerking him off as he eats him out, swallowing down every drop of his own cum. Jimin’s shoulders drop in relief at finally having his neglected cock touched, fucking into Jeongguk’s fist to chase his final orgasm. He comes quickly, whimpering weakly as his spent cock dribbles a pathetic amount of cum onto Jeongguk’s fist.
Jeongguk pulls himself to his feet and Jimin tries to follow suit but the second he stands his knees buckle and he nearly collapses.
“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Jeongguk asks, catching Jimin around the waist and straightening him up. He gently sets him on the end of the bed but Jimin winces at the pressure on his abused hole, shifting his weight onto his hip instead.
“Mm,” Jimin hums in agreement. His eyes are still a little hazy but he doesn’t look upset, just still far gone. “Was so good. Thank you.”
Jeongguk laughs. “I should be the one thanking you,” he says, settling on the bed next to Jimin. He puts his hand under his thigh to help take some of the pressure off where it hurts. “That was… god, I don’t even have words for it, it was amazing.”
“I was good?” Jimin asks.
“You were perfect.”
Jimin smiles, humming contentedly. “I’m tired.”
“Why don’t you get cleaned up. I’ll strip the sheets and then we can go to bed, okay? You deserve to get some rest.”
Jimin agrees so Jeongguk gets to work— he fills the tub in the bathroom and helps ease Jimin into it, filling it with soaps and bath bombs that Jimin picks out himself (after some mild teasing about why he has such an expansive bath product collection— Jeongguk just likes to smell good, okay?) and then he gathers up the filthy clothes and bedsheets and throws them in the wash, grabbing a new set to re-make the bed.
He’s just finished cleaning himself up in the downstairs bathroom and is picking out some clothes from his drawers for Jimin to put on when the bathroom door creaks open and Jimin pokes his head out— his skin is scrubbed clean and his hair is damp, a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Hey,” he says, a little quietly. He seems so much smaller and vulnerable than he usually does and something about it makes warmth flood into Jeongguk’s chest, stomach fluttering at how domestic it feels for Jimin to be showering in his ensuite. “What are you doing?”
“Grabbing you some clothes,” Jeongguk says. He gathers up the long-sleeved t-shirt and sweats he’d found and sets them into Jimin’s arms. “They’ll probably be too big for you, sorry, but they’ll do for now.”
Jimin stares down at them, tongue poked in his cheek. Jeongguk can’t help but feel like there’s something wrong and a little wave of anxiety spikes through him, feeling like maybe he did something wrong. Had he been too rough with him? Had he taken advantage of him somehow? He doesn’t really have much experience with having sex that rough but he knows an important part of it is making sure your partner is taken care of afterward and he wonders if maybe he didn’t do a good job— even though he was planning on cuddling Jimin once they got in bed and making sure he was okay. Was he supposed to do it sooner?
Jimin doesn’t seem to notice his anxiety, dipping back into the bathroom to pull Jeongguk’s clothes on and re-emerging a minute later, rubbing his damp hair with the towel that was just around his waist.
Jeongguk is still sort of panicking. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Jimin drapes the damp towel over the back of Jeongguk’s desk chair and then picks across the room. “Where are my clothes?”
“I threw them in the wash.”
“Oh. Well, I can come back and get them tomorrow morning, then, I’ll be staying on campus for a few more days.”
Jeongguk blinks at him. “You’re leaving?”
Jimin seems taken aback. “Yeah?”
Jimin cocks his head to the side. “You were acting like I was acting weird but i”m pretty sure you’re the one who’s actually acting weird. What’s wrong?”
“I just uh.” Jeongguk pauses. He wonders if Jimin staying the night was a ridiculous expectation. After all, their relationship up until now has been nothing but the promise of sex, definitely not talking or cuddling in Jeongguk’s bed. Jimin will probably think he’s weird and overstepping boundaries for even suggesting it. “I thought maybe you were going to stay.”
Jimin blinks a few times. He seems genuinely taken aback, but definitely not upset. A range of emotions crosses his face but then, finally, a smile curls the corners of his lips.
“You want me to stay?”
“Of course I do. We had a great time and I thought we could, uh—”
“Cuddle?” Jimin steps toward him, his smile curling impossible wider. “Talk all night? Watch movies?”
Jeongguk can feel his cheeks heat up. “Actually… yes?”
“Huh.” Jimin stops in front of Jeongguk, looping his arms over his shoulders. “Never pegged you as the romantic type.”
“I’m not? I just, uh.” He swallows down the lump in his throat. “You make me want to be.”
Jimin’s eyes glitter— he pushes up on his tiptoes and brushes a slight kiss against his lips, mint on his breath. For once he doesn’t smell like strawberries— he smells like Jeongguk. And as much as Jeongguk has grown to like the way Jimin tastes, the way Jimin smells— he decides he likes it very, very much.
“I think you might make me want to be, too.”
Jimin does spend the night. And then he spends the next night, and the next night after that. It’s amazing how well they get along when they actually talk instead of dry humping behind the football field, and Jeongguk is kinda mad at himself for being so hung up on getting in Jimin’s pants that he never actually tried to get to know him.
(Not that he still doesn't try to get in Jimin’s pants. The only difference now is that he actually succeeds).
In Jeongguk’s senior year, his team crushes their rivals in the final game of the season with a landslide victory, earning his name a place in the college football history books and on a contract for a pro team with an offer that makes his head spin.
The best part about the victory, though, is the way Jimin comes streaking across the field the moment the game ends, eyes curled with the force of his bright, beaming smile. He leaps into Jeongguk’s arms, crashing their lips together in a kiss that says you did it, you fucking did it, I’m so proud of you.
So yeah, Jeongguk might be a little bit of a cliche: captain of the football team dating the head cheerleader. But he doesn’t mind: life is good.